Up Above The World You Fly
by razz4499
Summary: Fourteen months after the events of 'Dynasty Chaos', Alice meets a mysterious stranger who speaks of a feud between two factions. Alice is assigned to stop one, but as she delves deeper into the mystery, she uncovers a dark history of Wonderland.
1. Prologue: Time and Time Again

**A/N: **Merely the start of a fresh story; a sequel, actually, to both _Ruins of the Heart _and _Dynasty Chaos. _This does not have a 'Return to..' in the title, because what is there to return to when one is already there? If you enjoyed my previous stories of my take on Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland/Through the Looking-glass, then hopefully you'll enjoy this one.

Based on the results taken on my poll, the sequel got the most votes. Now, I haven't jumped blindly into this one. I've been planning it before I finished _Dynasty Chaos, _which may explain why I was so late to update it. My writer's block is fading as I'm coming out with various ideas for this Fanfiction series, and for the others too. I'm interested myself in exploring this take I've done on one of the most mesmerising stories I have read. A bit too high-fantasy orientated, perhaps, but this is Fanfiction: isn't this where people are allowed to express their own visions of their devoted fictions into their own?

Again, another prologue with a vague outline of the story that is to happen (that's me... I like being vague). This story will be more centered on Hatter/Alice which many of you loved in _Ruins of the Heart_, but was quite neglected in _Dynasty Chaos _(or perhaps it was just another view of this strange relationship). I won't give too much away, but this may either be the finale to a trilogy, or another installment in a working series. We'll see where it goes.

Also, the gaps between chapter uploading will most likely be vast. Who knows, it might be til Christmas when I finish this. Be patient. :P

Now, my fellow Alice fans, fall back down the rabbit hole into this universe of Wonderland, and I hope you enjoy it. :)

* * *

. . .

**PROLOGUE**

**Time and time again…**

Commitment… dedication… attachment. Perhaps this may be the life cycle of our inmost wishes. Only one who wished to let it blossom with the nursing of these three words, would see it evolve as the child they nurtured since the beginning of their days. Imagination is such a phenomenal gift that many take for granted. It is an entire universe incarcerated within our minds, letting only our inner eye project these creative and extraordinary worlds. If only one could find a way to tear down the barrier between these two planes of existence – dreams and truth – the world that we abide could become something much superior, or, on the other hand, chaotic.

Do you allow little worlds to build an empire within your mind, and yet never take the chance to release it? And even if you did, how would you: through speech? Illustrations? Novels? Or would you forever confine them and permit the creations to eat away at your soul – too many visions to bear… too much inventiveness to control…

But this is not a tale of how to make dreams a reality, no; _this _is a tale of how it happened. An ordinary girl, so innocent and naïve slumbered deep into a realm of peculiar wonders and curious creatures. Being so preoccupied with the false world she did not come to acknowledge a titanic power she held within her. She did not come to realise that this world would become a reality.

Many years later, she found it again. She regained her willpower to return. But it was not a dream, she deemed. Somehow, she managed to break down the barrier. Somehow, Wonderland was accessible and breathing life. Only it was after much learning that it was she that controlled the fate of this world; after all, she was the creator, it would only be comprehensible that she was the judge.

But what _is _Wonderland? _Why _does it exist? _What _is its purpose? Oh, we philosophise this every waking minute within this plane of reality. Clearly, this girl had a good reason to create it? Or was it just a malfunction of the mind, and unluckily it altered into actuality? We have come to realise that the undergoing schematics of the mind modify the land of dreams. We have come to acknowledge that the heart flourishes the living into being. We have come to accept that the soul is the lifeline of her humanity. Emotions make it interesting, and aptitude makes it conceivable. Now, it is only for this girl to understand entirely the ways of this world, passing obstacles and even letting agony inflict them on the way to saving it.

This time, however, it is different. This time, instead of saving it yet again, it is time to delve deep into the core of this world and rummage through the heart, mind and soul that keeps this existence alive. What wonders will she find down there? What adversaries will hinder her along the way? And will friendship remain intact throughout this journey?

Only this time… this time… it is not her life on the line, but another's. The question now is what is dearer to her: this world or her beloved? Only time will tell in the form of words, and the sequel to another story of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

. . .

'_Life in bloom; so earnest now,_

_A shadow in thy soul._

_Listen well; let me tell,_

_When the bells shall toll._

_I cannot be; the dreamer here,_

_A memory haunting deep._

_Release me now; I shan't bow,_

_Blood like waters weep._

_Hold me not; thy dearest friend,_

_The sun hides her face._

_Hope's amiss; an elusive kiss,_

_Before a lasting embrace._

_Creator not; Destroyer be,_

_The mourning wisps of time,_

_Locked inside; a world that died,_

_Within a grieving rhyme.' _


	2. Hatters Craft Their Caps

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Hatters Craft Their Caps**

A shadowed passage was laid before her eyes; devoured in chilling darkness, and a low rumble echoing amidst the black. No limbs quivered, not even a finger could she twitch, when a ghostly lamplight excelled the obscurity down an endless hallway. It hovered, like an enlarged firefly, swaying with poise. Her eyes were fixated, as though the light hypnotised her from its mesmerising dance. It felt heavenly – calming, almost. It inflamed warmth in her heart, and her body was heated from a caressing chill.

The rumble altered into a shrill whistle, until it concluded, unexpectedly, in a bloodcurdling scream. All warmth was washed away, and the wraithlike lamp glimmered scarlet. Accompanying the distant shrieks was a steady ticking, as though a metronome was swinging in her mind. And with each moment of the metronome's clicking the light came closer. It became blinding; a lantern emerging before her like a crimson will-o-the-wisp. It hovered closer… the screams ringing even greater, the clicking of the timer deafening…

But she could not move. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead yet she could not move. All life seemed to expire from within her, yet her heart pounded in rhythm of the ticking, and her breath raced. When the water seeped to her lips her tongue tasted the frosty liquid of not sweat, but the faint flavour of tea.

Suddenly, a silhouette of a person materialised in the thick of the light. It was indistinguishable, though its posture seemed that of a fully-grown man. A spine-chilling cackle joined the symphony of dread. The man remained shadowed, and his laughing persisted, the screams thunderous and the ticking beating against the shadows.

A whisper, hoarse but audible, trounced all sounds. The lilting voice flew gently, though hauntingly, like the wings of a raven, and they gusted past her ears, where she listened hopelessly to a chilling ode.

'_The night falls with a silent sigh,_

_Soulless are we._

_The God, for which they pray, flares once_

_Then dies, swallowed by madness._

_All hope must surely perish._

_Your soul thrives no more._

_How could you fail to believe?_

_Our dark thoughts surround us, crying…_

_Sanctuary…'_

'Sanctuary,' the screams echoed shrilly. 'Awake in me… truth… awaken… wake up…'

The light shone brighter than ever before, turning into white the form was recognised.

'Wake up… wake up!'

Her body trembled and the sweat poured… The man… he was… he must be…

'Wake up… _wake up, Alice!'_

Suddenly, through a sequence of quivering, Alice woke with a start.

Eyes adjusting to this sudden environment, Alice blinked, eyes aching from the luminosity of the sunrise. Her limbs were stiff, and for a moment she feared she was immobilised, but gently shuddering her fingers, a wave of relief washed over her. She was returned to safety.

A young pale man with unkempt tawny hair and harlequin eyes aided her in sitting upright. He wore an aubergine waistcoat beneath an auburn frock-coat. His trousers were plaid in colours of beiges and browns, and his boots wine shaded and knee high. He wore fingerless gloves and a burgundy cravat was tied around his neck. Within one hand he fiddled with an inky top hat, with the numbers 10/6 written on a label sticking out of a taupe cloth that was tied above the brim.

Smiling with pallid lips, the Hatter swabbed Alice's forehead with a handkerchief. 'You were restless all night,' he informed. 'You were shaking just now. The night has not been kind to you, has it?'

Regaining her voice as her throat cleared, she replied feebly, 'No, it has not, Tarrant,' she sighed. 'However, it is nice to wake to another summer morning.'

'Autumn, actually,' he said. 'The summer has passed since the weather became colder.'

'O,' murmured Alice, 'my mind hasn't adjusted properly yet,' and she lay back on her bed, The Hatter remained by her side, nursing her tenderly.

'Alice,' he said with curiosity, 'what is it you were dreaming of?'

She remained silent. Her stomach did a somersault to remember that nightmare she escaped from. It was excessively clear in her head: the scarlet light, the shadowed man, and the terrible sounds surrounding her. She shuddered. 'I-it was just… I can't remember.'

The Hatter lowered his eyes, seemingly unconvinced. 'O, okay,' he murmured, and he continued with his nursing.

. . .

A brilliant golden sun hovered in a cloudless sky. Despite this false masque of summertime, the temperature was wintry and breezy. The forests bordering the dwelling of the March Hare erased the gleaming emerald shades of their leaves and replaced them with patterns of lukewarm bronzes and gold. Fall was come at last as the summer waned, and soon the sun would neglect her kindliness and become swathed in an ocean of miserable gray. It would only last for so long, the dying season, and winter would reign supreme…

Alice, dressing into a saffron gown with puffy sleeves and a pallid laced corset, sauntered downstairs after the Hatter left her alone to give her brushed her wavy golden locks, untangling them smoothly, in the drawing room mirror, before placing a pair of amber dolly shoes on her feet and departing outside.

In spite of the rising gust, the long table that was perpetually placed in the garden was covered in mounds of various crockery and cooked breakfasts: sweltering bacon, fried eggs, bronzed toast, salmon pink hams, smoked haddock and a selection of different fruits. The mouth-watering smell wafted through the air, and instantly the nightmare perished in smoke.

In the midst of it all, placed majestically in the centre of the table, was a cake frozen with snow-like icing and topped with dozens of blazing candles. And written in blue icing atop were the words:

A VERY MERRY BIRTHDAY

THACKERY

Alice smiled. 'A wondrous feast, I must say,' she said seemingly to herself. 'You've yet again outdone yourself, Tarrant.'

'I know, I know,' said the Hatter's voice before appearing behind the heaps of tableware. He beamed smugly. 'Many months of preparing, many months! Thackery will _love _it! He always does every year, but always there's a surprise for him.' He finished laying out the final cutlery, and then making a huge sigh of content he advanced towards Alice. 'How are you feeling, my dear?'

'Better, thanks,' she said truthfully. She looked around. 'Where is Thackery, anyhow?'

'Having a morning stroll with Mallymkun and Chessur,' he answered. 'They will be back before the guests turn up at midday.'

'Wonderful.' She skipped towards the table, scanning all the delicious cuisine arranged along the lengthy table. She raised her eyes to examine and count the many blazing candles on the cake. 'How old is he, anyway?' she asked when she lost count after forty-two.

'O, ancient,' he said heavily, 'in fact, I could no longer calculate after seventy!'

'Seventy?' exclaimed Alice in incredulity. 'I never knew hares could live such a long time.'

'Neither did I, actually,' he said.

She took her eyes away from the candles and scrutinized the unwrinkled face of the Hatter, flawlessly smooth as though he had barely reached his mid-twenties. 'And you,' she said, gazing at the ashen features of his face, 'you never seem to age day either.'

The Hatter grinned haughtily. 'Well, I do my best,' he said appreciatively.

Alice rolled her eyes, and progressed to maintain her examination of the cookery.

Half an hour later – and the food was miraculously still torrid – the March Hare returned alongside of the Cheshire Cat and the Dormouse. When they entered through the picket fence bordering the flourishing garden, their mirth heightened when they whiffed the aroma of steaming gastronomy.

'Ah,' breathed the Dormouse, 'another splendid feast for our stomachs to enjoy!'

'Quite simply luscious, Tarrant,' said the Cheshire suavely as he materialised onto one of the chairs. 'I cannot wait to sink my teeth into your delectable cooking.'

Holding up the rear was the March Hare, his mouth arched in a smile of delight. 'Yet again, another glorious birthday meal,' he said merrily as he hobbled over to the table. 'You never fail to impress me, my friend.'

'After many years never once,' said the Hatter warmly. 'Happy Birthday, Thackery,' and he gave his tawny companion a firm yet friendly embrace.

'Thank you, Tarrant,' he said as he liberated himself from the Hatter's arms. 'The guests will be here by noontime and everything must go swimmingly.'

'O, they will,' assured the Hatter flatly, 'I should begin the preparations for the midday feast shortly after you've all finished your meals,' and with that he disappeared inside.

Alice chuckled feebly. Her stomach was indeed protesting against the hunger but to gnaw her way through the many platefuls of grub it would be hardly endurable. Nonetheless, she sat herself down and helped herself to some smoked haddock and a cup of tea. When she finished pouring the liquid into her cup she listened to the creature's political conversations.

'It appears Seraphina is debating on building a dam near the Northern River,' said Cheshire casually. 'That is a terrible idea if I do say so myself; the water won't be able to flow properly into Wonder's Edge-,'

'Who cares about water?' bellowed the Dormouse. 'We have free cake!'

'Because that never stopped you infiltrating the Heart Castle and stealing a muffin,' said the Cheshire. 'The Knave once again almost got imprisoned.'

'Good riddance!' snarled the Hare when he helped himself to buttering toast. 'I think he deserved a lot more than merely incarceration! Look what he did to Ariel! It's a terrible and sadistic crime that's worthy of decapitation. Isn't that what Seraphina loves most? Severing the heads of those who cause the most petite act she deems indecent?'

'Don't ramble on about capital punishment on your birthday, Thackery, it's not a cheerful subject,' said the Cheshire. 'Yes, what he did to the Gryphon was appalling. However, he's fine. He healed straight after the war ended.'

'Barely,' murmured the Hare as he splattered jam on his toast. 'He will never be able to fly properly again after that.'

A discomfited silence had befallen, and the others resulted in stiffly eating their way through the piles of cuisine. Alice swiveled her tea lazily, starring down into the pale brown liquid impassively. A few moments later, Alice was grateful for the hush to be broken with a topic unrelated to execution and injuries; however, it was still correlated to monarchy.

'Why is it that Laurent, Roderick and Ferdinand never get as much credit as Seraphina, Mirana and Iracabeth?' asked the Dormouse suddenly. 'Everyone seems to neglect the kings. The queens seem to overshadow them constantly.'

'Spontaneous topic to discuss, Mally,' said the Cheshire, deciding his next meal. 'The kings merely wish to not become involved in their affairs, obviously.' He snatched a haddock from the serving dish. 'I don't blame them, to be honest; the queens are rather devious, especially Seraphina. Anyway,' he said with sigh as he nibbled the fish, 'this birthday is more important at this point in time. Perhaps we should cease these matters and focus on merrymaking. The guests will be here shortly.'

'Who exactly is coming?' asked Alice for the first time since dining.

'Hm, well,' began the Hare, 'who's invited, is: Nivens, Ariel, a few more residents of the Two Realms, and maybe a few surprise visitors-,'

'Practically, familiar faces, Alice,' said the Chessur.

'I've never heard the Gryphon be called Ariel before,' she said.

'I think he's embarrassed by the name,' thought the feline, 'we call him that when he's not around, but I still think Glaw calls him by that name. I don't think it bothers him when he calls him by that, anyway.'

'Glaw?' said Alice, seeming to sound ignorant.

'The Mock Turtle,' answered the Dormouse. 'You know, that weeping hybrid that is found near the Pool of Tears-,'

'Don't be so insensitive about Glaw,' snapped the Hare. 'He's had a difficult life, what with the curse and-,'

'Curse?' interrupted Alice curtly.

The Hare sighed. 'Please don't disrupt me again, Alice,' he said in forced courteousness. 'Basically, when he was living in the sea something terrible happened to him. As you must know, Alice, he was – well, to not sound rude – transmuted into two animals.'

'He's never been the same since,' said the Chessur with a melancholy sigh.

'That's – that's rather depressing,' said Alice quietly and empathically. She had remembered her first meeting thirteen years ago with the Mock Turtle alongside the Gryphon. He would not cease to sob through every sentence; it was a rather sorrowful sight, noticing that the turtle bore the head of a calf. She then began to wonder if the Gryphon suffered the same curse too…

'Well, that's me done,' declared the Dormouse, rubbing his furry belly. 'Is it cake time yet?'

'We'll cut the cake when the guests arrive,' said the Cheshire, 'which, judging by the position of the sun, should be in an hour's time. Tarrant had better hurry to make lunch in there.'

'What happens to the rest of the food here?' asked Alice, indicating to some of the untouched platters laid out on the table.

'We'll save them all for tomorrow or eat them later,' said the Hare, rubbing his lips after finishing a few strips of bacon. 'Well then! The midday feast is to begin, and I'm positively eager!'

. . .

Before midday arrived the present hosts cleared the table, throwing away or saving the leftovers for later or for another day. Masses of salvers bearing varieties of cuisine were escorted outside to join the still-lit cake upon the extensive table. Among them were treacle tarts, bread and butter puddings, pork and game pies, kedgerees, haggis, sponge cakes, crumpets and much more traditional gastronomy. The smell was mouth-wateringly luscious, but it would be a miracle to be able to eat so much after such a large breakfast.

Precisely when the sun was at its peak, a number of familiar and new faces greeted them from outside the garden fence and chorused many 'Happy Birthdays' for the March Hare. The whole garden was swallowed in the numerous conversations of the peculiar locals of the Two Realms. When the March Hare escaped from the crowd of admiring acquaintances, he climbed up onto a chair and cleared his throat for all to hear.

'Thank you, thank you!' he bellowed over the dying voices. Every eye gazed up at him, widened with approbation. 'I am overjoyed that so many of you could make it! As you can see, Tarrant has once again provided an excellent feast for all,' he pointed towards the banquet, 'funnily enough; I don't even know how old I am today,' a number of laughs broke out, 'and yet after countless gatherings on this very day not one of you seems to grow tired. Well, how can you, with a Hatter's wonderful catering skills?

'However, I all hope you enjoy some music, dancing and, of course, eating, on this gorgeous autumn day. Enjoy!'

At once music issued in one corner of the garden with a symphony of fiddles, lutes and panpipes. Most gathered around the table and began indulging themselves in the vast amounts of choices. Alice was not very hungry after breakfast, and instead went over to make conversation with those who did not seem to eat the entire table.

'Afternoon, Nivens,' she said kindly to the White Rabbit, who was huddled by the picket fence tampering with his golden pocket watch. He jumped at her voice and hurriedly sheathed the watch into his waistcoat pocket, the chain dangling out.

'O, hello, Alice!' he said in a high-pitched voice. 'I didn't see you coming. It's lovely to see you again.'

'What were you doing?' she asked as her eyes inspected the hanging chain.

'What? O, nothing,' he said hastily, scooping the chain into his pocket. He cleared his throat, attempting to evade the situation. 'Lovely weather today, isn't it?'

'Um, yes, I suppose,' said Alice charily. Why was the Rabbit acting so strangely?

'I've always been rather fond of colder days,' he said in his persisting shrill tone. 'What was that, Tacey? Okay, I'll be there now. O, that's a shame, Alice, I would've loved to chat but… well… errands…' and with that he hopped off to engage in speech with the Mouse.

_What was that about? _thought Alice. It was rather peculiar for the Rabbit to act so oddly, and furthermore, secretive. What was so important with his pocket watch that not even Alice was allowed to know about?

'Alice!' a voice called.

Alice was completely snapped from her thoughts and turned to see the Gryphon lying underneath an oak tree. His beak curved into a smile.

'O, hello, Gryphon,' she greeted when she arrived at his side, kneeling in the shade beside him. 'How are you feeling?'

'I cannot complain,' he said lightly. 'Yourself, dear?'

She shrugged. 'Fine, if I had to choose a moderate term.'

The Gryphon looked enquiringly at her. 'What is the matter, Alice?'

'Nothing at all, Gryphon,' she said in a strident voice similar to the Rabbit's only moments ago. 'I am enjoying this festive occasion with mirth, to be frank.'

'Well, that is wonderful to hear,' he said, however he appeared to be unconvinced.

There a silence fell swiftly, and Alice resulted in creating daisy chains with the lasting lot that managed to make it into the beginning of fall. It reminded her then of her childhood, sitting in the garden of her house with her late cat, Dinah, and knotting a crown of daisies to impress her parents... She suddenly ceased, starring down at the half-completed chain. The memory of her parent's demise had never left her mind so easily. Her heart dropped gloomily, and quickly she threw the daisies away, straying as far from nostalgia as possible.

'So… how is Glaw?' she asked in hope to make a least the slightest spark of conversation.

The Gryphon gazed at her inquisitively. 'You know of Glaw?'

'Why, yes, I remember meeting him,' she said, 'you introduced me to him, remember?'

His eyes navigated in memory. 'O, yes, I do recall. I did not think you knew his name. However, he is the same as always: melancholy and wistful. Why do you ask, Alice?'

'O, no reason,' she deflected his dark eyes by gazing out at the table. She could still feel his eyes pressed in the side of her head. Trying again to think of something to block out the memories, she resulted in looking for the Hatter. _Yes, Alice, _said a sarcastic voice in her head, _because _that _will end your reminiscence. _

_Better than remaining in silence, _she retorted back. She bade the Gryphon a quick and gauche farewell and made of to find the Hatter. Yes, her conscience was right; talking to the Hatter was a chancy move to make these days. After all they had been through in the previous years; it was difficult to look at him the same. Sometimes she felt awful for lying to him about what really happened up in Checkmate Plateau, but to speak or even stray to the slightest mention of Leo's existence always strikes a nerve within him, and he falls into a state of either bitter evasiveness or fury. In a sense, it almost felt as though she could never connect with him the way she used to, as though she was unworthy of his trust…

'Hey, Alice!'

Another voice tugged her back from thought, and this one belonged to the very man she wanted to and not to see. The Hatter hurried to her outside the door of the house with a large grin on his face that could be in good competition with the Cheshire Cat's.

'Can I speak with you for a minute?' he asked her.

Her stomach churned. 'Um, yes, of course,' she said anxiously, and they entered into the house, which was emptied save for them.

The Hatter closed the door behind her, and its bang seemed louder in her ears. He swiveled around to see her. His grin vanished, and a look of gravity replaced it. 'Alice,' he said in a low voice, 'I need to ask you something of great importance.'

'Um, okay,' she croaked. His question could be anything, and she seriously hoped it was nothing to do with all the insincerity she caused on him for the past fourteen months.

He took off his hat and spun it around in his hands, but his eyes were transfixed on her. 'I wasn't entirely sure of how to ask this but it was better if nobody else heard.'

She waited for the anticipated question, biting her tongue and fiddling with her fingers…

'Alice,' he said deeply.

Here it was…

'I need to think of a place to go for Thackery's birthday! Can you think of anywhere?'

Taken aback by this unexpected question, Alice could finally breathe. A great wave of relief washed over her. She had not felt so nervous for a while, and she celebrated its departure with a weak chuckle.

'Are you okay?' asked the Hatter.

'O, I'm fine,' she said truthfully, although it pained her to know that the Hatter still did not suspect anything.

'That's good, though, I didn't see what was funny with the question; it's serious! I haven't thought of a place to go for us, I can't think of anywhere. Alice, I really need your help to think!'

'Okay,' she said, 'how about the Lake of Purity?'

'Been there, done that,' he said tensely.

'What about a beach?'

'Too far,' he whined.

'Um, how about a hike up the Golden Mountains?'

'Thackery doesn't like mountaineering…'

'Then I don't know,' snapped Alice impatiently, 'I've suggested some and no point in suggesting more. It's not that important, anyway.'

'But, Alice,' cried the Hatter, 'I _always _take Thackery out somewhere, we never got to go anywhere that much when we had the whole Tea Party situation-,'

She huffed. 'I thought you were good at geography! Suggest a location – historical or natural – within a few square miles and go frolic around there like a pair of lovers,' and with that she left the house exasperatedly.

As soon as she emerged back outside, deafening cheers thundered through the entire garden. The creatures, whooping and rooting, all gathered around the table and the March Hare. At once, every voice chimed into song:

'_Happy Birthday to you,_

_Happy Birthday to you,_

_Happy Birthday, Thackery,_

_Happy Birthday to you!'_

'Hip-hip!' squeaked the Dormouse.

'_HOORAY!'_

'Hip-hip!'

'_HOORAY!'_

'HIP-HIP!'

'_HOORAY!'_

And as the voices soothed to a lower level, the March Hare inhaled deeply, and then blew hard at his candles which were, at once, extinguished. Another round of cheering broke out, and as the Hare raised a knife for all to see he proceeded in cutting the marvellous cake.

'Hold on, now! You'll all get a piece!' the Hare laughed as he placed a portion of cake onto plates. 'Be sure not to smash – you know what, here, use tissues instead!' and instead he swapped the plates with tissue paper. 'O, hello again, Alice, would you like – are you feeling alright?'

'Hm?' mumbled Alice as she approached the table, exasperatedly. She stammered. 'O, um, I'll have some, er, later, thank you. And yes, I'm fine.'

'Where is Tarrant?'

'Inside,' and with that she ambled off outside the gardens to a brook that bordered the outskirts of the dwelling. It was a narrow babbling stream that journeyed off inside the woods nearby. Arms folded she gallivanted beside the brook, the sounds of merrymaking trailing off in the distance behind her. Sauntering beside the grassy banks allowed her wander back into her mind...

A strange feeling had been confined within her; it kicked out the cheerfulness like a drunken man out of a pub. Was it seriously bothering her so much that the Hatter was unbeknownst to the facts of the previous year? She knew, however, it would not always remain a secret; he always seems to find out the hard way. Anxious and troubled, Alice sat herself down beside the stream, the lower half of her face hidden by her hands. Unsure, perhaps, about what to do when she felt strangely alienated from the Hatter, refusing to allow herself to open up to him anymore. It just made her realise that his heart-warming smile and brilliant green eyes would fade and darken.

The mention of Leo cast that shadow. It would never perish the fact that he successfully murdered the Hatter four years ago, that he lied to her, that he used her for his own gain. But puzzling, it was, of why he yielded so effortlessly to Alice last year. But it was not Leo that was plaguing her mind at the moment, no: it was the Hatter. They were so dissimilar to each other in their endeavours that she had to reason to connect them. Though it scared her so much to feel that there _was_ a link there, something very vague, though it was there. Was it their charm? The fact both their eyes captivated her? The way they smiled? The way they both stole her heart? Though quickly she deemed it was not anything related to her. There was a linkage of some sort. She still had no idea about his past: who he was, who his family were, why he never ages a day and how he had suffered from severe psychosis years before. So estranged she felt emotionally from him… did she fear he may fall to the same echelon Leo did? Somehow, growing up and understanding much more than she had before, she discovered that there was something in the Hatter that she had never seen before. Something peculiar… something crucial…

_There's nothing wrong with the Hatter, _she assured herself.

_How do you know? _She replied back, _he remembers nothing, and yet, he feels no remorse for forgetting his own past… but, when will I know it? And yet, will I like what I see?_

And tangled in worrisome thoughts she starred into the running water, and her thoughts were carried away down the stream.


	3. Early on an Autumn's Day

**CHAPTER TWO**

**Early on an Autumn's Day**

'Where did you wander off to?' asked the Hatter when Alice returned.

'Hm?' she said dreamily. 'Oh, I just went for a stroll, that's all.'

'That was a very lengthy stroll, Alice,' he said. 'You missed the Quadrille.'

The garden was now emptied save for the Hatter, the Hare and the Dormouse when Alice returned. She did not realise how long she had not been present; every plate on the entire table was emptied, and there was much waste littered in the garden. There were only a few fractions of the cake remaining.

'We left a few pieces of cake for you, Alice,' said the Dormouse as he struggled to pile the plates.

'That's nice, I might eat them later,' she said quietly, and she formed a promenade through the litter as she ambled back inside the house, leaving the other's eyes pressed curiously upon her as she disappeared.

She felt remote, as though her conscious had floated yonder to some distant land. Excavating morbid thoughts had forced her to result with impassive mannerisms and expressions. Slouching into a maroon armchair beside a dormant fireplace caused her mind to revisit the vaults of her mind.

What was bothering her so much? Why was it eating away at her mind so fiercely? Perhaps casting out these thoughts for at least a short period of time would be helpful if only slightly. Maybe helping the others to clear away the remains of the party would be a swell idea, if Alice could find the draining willpower within her to do so, yet for now she resulted in letting her mind dominate her entirely. Daydreaming was becoming too melancholic lately. What happened to the whimsical visions when she was a child? Usually a rainbow appears after the rain, but how Alice was feeling momentarily; no sun would shine to let that happen.

Breaking the gloomy silence a rapping was heard on the door, followed by the entrance of the Hatter, carrying a mound of dirty crockery within his arms. Closing the door behind him with his foot, he glanced over the pile to see an overcastted Alice slouched on his chair.

'Why, you're positively glowing like sunshine, my dear!' he said lightly as he cautiously let the pile drop into the sink. 'I mean, that smile, why! It really brightens up the room!'

Alice rolled her eyes; the only movement she let herself perform.

Finishing with the crockery, the Hatter pranced over towards Alice and sat himself on the arm of the chair. 'I've never seen you look so happy before, Alice.'

She sighed sharply. 'Your humorous remarks are o' so hilarious,' she said bitterly, however, the Hatter seemed to have missed this tone, and took it for a compliment.

'I know, perhaps the skill of a court jester, if not better,' and he made a conceited smirk. 'By the way, my dear, Mally has suggested a location for us to visit!'

'O?' said Alice half-heartedly. 'Where?'

'It's an ancient ruin. Apparently it was a small village with a beautiful river and emerald forests. Mally said that Chessur heard from Tacey who was told by Nivens whom was informed by one of the guards of the Heart Castle that his brother's daughter's husband's mother's sister was told of the location by a friend of a friend of that friend who-,'

'Hatter,' said Alice wearisomely, 'it's lovely to specify who told who however, isn't the point to tell me where exactly this location is?'

'I was getting to that,' he said touchily, and he huffed as though affronted. 'Anyway, this person said that the ruins of a village were located up north, about an estimate of ten miles, actually. And to think I've never known of this place! Alice, we must travel there tomorrow for Thackery's late-birthday present, well, I suppose by then it'd be an unbirthday present...' he paused for a second, thinking, before waving a hand to swat away the thoughts, 'not important, I'm sure, but what is, my dear Alice, is that this place sounds perfect! We'll leave by morning, perhaps nine. And that concludes this,' he said heavily as he lifted himself from the chair. Sighing he approached the door, opened it, and with a large grin at Alice he let her be.

If the entrance of the Hatter eluded her from her gnawing thoughts, then his absence certainly made them return. She knew, in some way, that she could not keep herself so distressed about contemplations that may not even be real. A walk to a historical site sounded interesting; Alice was very much fond of visiting ancient castles and learning of past accounts. This little (or rather long) stroll may indeed help the notions fly away on the wind, and celebrate the homecoming of happiness. This thought assisted a smile upon her face, and thus she arose and decided to return outside for conversation.

Now that the garden was mostly in an orderly condition, the Hare and the Dormouse rested themselves upon one of the surrounding chairs, chatting casually. The Cheshire Cat and the Hatter did not seem to be present. Alice guessed they went for a late afternoon stroll, though she doubted it would not be as lengthy as hers was.

'Afternoon again, Alice,' chimed the Hare, crooked ears poking over the top of a tattered book. He lowered it, and his amber eyes landed with delight onto her. 'Did you enjoy earlier?'

'O, yes, it was wonderful,' said Alice quickly as she took a seat around the table.

'Except you were only here for half of it,' snapped the Dormouse, lounging inside a tea cup. 'You missed the dancing, the singing, the glorious speech Thackery made-,'

'Hush, Mally,' ordered the Hare sharply, and the Dormouse fell silent. 'Alice,' he said softly, 'I am not disappointed that you wandered off and missed the festivities-,'

'I'm sorry, Thackery,' she said in a blameworthy tone, 'I got carried away, and I lost track of time-,'

'Time isn't easy to lose, Alice,' said the Dormouse. 'However if you did, then seconds would stay still until time returned.'

'Is this another nonsensical term?' asked Alice drearily.

'It is logic,' snapped the Dormouse.

It was rather baffling as to why the Dormouse was bitter so suddenly, but Alice tried not to think too much of it. In fact, she tried not to think too much at all...

It was over an hour until the Hatter and the Cheshire Cat returned to the house. By that time, the sun was beginning to set over the treetops and disappear beneath the canopies. They retreated indoors once the temperature dropped, and sparked a boiling fire to fend off the cold. Eating the leftovers from earlier, Alice decided to take a piece of cake that had been left over specially for her, but with every bite, her guilt ascended.

The others went to sleep earlier than usual, and Alice was the last to fall asleep. Her thoughts were restive and forever cutting their way deep into both her mind and heart. She tried to shrug them off her brain in hope to get some sleep, but they kept tossing and turning as she did upon her bed. Another barrier than hindered her from sleeping was of what terror would lurk within her dreams this time. Last night it was ghostly; a hovering lantern, a shadowed man, the echoes of painful screams... if these nightmares – as Alice had believed them to be – persisted, then insomnia may overcome her in order to remain away from such surreal and terrifying visions. To cast back the anxiety, Alice attempted in imagining wonderful visions instead: birds singing beneath a springtime sun, lying beneath an oak tree and reading, gallivanting beside a brook with a parasol, smelling the freshly blossomed flowers... and astoundingly, this seemed to work, and eventually, by looping these images over and over again, she drifted into an unruffled sleep.

Alice found herself gazing into a looking-glass that was hanging above a mantelpiece. Breaking the stare from her own reflection, Alice walked over to a window near the other end of the room. The area was familiar; however, it was so dark it was not easy to wonder where she had seen it before. It was an unfilled room save for the hearth and the mirror, and what was distinctly a rocking horse in a corner. The one strip of moonlight illuminated the spot it was placed, and it glowed dimly off its wooden surface.

Interested, Alice approached it, evading the ribbon of moonlight on the way. Tracing the wooden texture of the horse's head, she prodded it, and the model rocked back and forth, creaking as it did. It was uncomfortably eerie, standing alone in a dark room with the steady groans of the swaying toy...

'Creepy, isn't it?'

Alice jumped; a hoarse whisper sounded in her ear. Leaping a few feet away from the corner, her eyes scanned frantically the shadowed room.

'Who's there?' she asked unsteadily.

'A ghost, a whisper, a memory...'

'A memory,' repeated Alice, her eyes remaining vigilant. 'Are you the shadowed man?'

'Maybe,' the male voice snickered.

'Well, that clarifies that, doesn't it?' huffed Alice, her fear soothing and her impatience rising.

The voice chuckled darkly. A drumming of footsteps trailed around the room, but whenever the steps reverberated, Alice could not seem to find the one making them. The footsteps stopped, which was guessingly a metre away from Alice's left.

'You're a nervous one, aren't you?' said the voice amusedly.

'I don't trust you, so of course I'm going to be,' said Alice sharply. 'Why don't you show yourself and stop hiding in the shadows?'

'Who said I was hiding?'

'Then why can't I see you?'

The footsteps sounded again. 'Why so, indeed. I'm perfectly visible and corporeal. I'm not a spirit or anything of the sort. So why is it you cannot see me when I'm standing right beside you?'

Her eyes darted to her right, but all she witnessed was darkness. Stretching a hand out she swatted the side of her, but she felt nothing but air. This was becoming increasingly disturbing and utterly unsettling.

'It appears not only are you ignorant to my presence, you cannot even feel me,' said the voice. 'Very peculiar. Maybe, Alice, you just don't wish to see me. Maybe you want to block me from your sight. That's understandable, to be honest, after all, doesn't everyone want to disregard the darker side of their mind?'

The rocking horse stopped, and the room become silent as death.

'The darker side of one's mind?' said Alice slowly, trying to unravel this meaning. 'And I'm in my own head, aren't I?'

'Well, if this is your head, then it's certainly uninviting,' the voice sneered.

'Then why is it so shadowy and empty?' she asked.

'Why, indeed, Alice,' he said, and the tone was cold. 'One narrow piece of moonlight can only illuminate so much, Alice. Is this a symbolic reference, perhaps? Is this the darkness you carry? Such as, why is there a looking-glass? Why is there a rocking horse, and why is there no door to this room?'

'Am I meant to answer these, then?' she asked brusquely.

'If you wish to then do so. I already know the answers.'

'Then why won't you tell me?' asked a now intolerant Alice.

'You won't learn anything if I just simply give you the answers,' said the voice as-a-matter-of-factly. 'You've done well to unravel the pieces of the puzzle for a while, now, and I know you're an intellectual individual, so it's up to you to finish the jigsaw of your mind. But I suppose there's no harm in giving a little clue, so here's one: _'I am buried but very much alive. I am hidden but very much clear. I never stop; I never rest, for if I do, then everything ends. What am I?'_

'That's not a clue, that's a riddle!' snapped Alice hotly.

'It's very much a clue once you solve it,' retorted the voice.

'Fine,' said Alice fiercely. She thought for a moment, unknotting the meanings inside these words. _I am buried but very much alive. _Perhaps it is buried alive, or what the next verse suggests, it is concealed on the inside but visible on the outside. What is hidden but also clear? What hides but is visible to a human eye? It must be hidden beneath a surface, but if you open the surface, it is clear?And if this thing stops, then everything ends... death is the end, and this thing obviously makes life. It _gives _life... it could be...

'Is it a heart?' she asked finally, however unsurely.

'Very good, Alice,' said the voice, like a teacher to an pupil. 'You are rather quick to solve the mystery.'

'So a heart is my clue?' she asked confusedly.

'Indeed, and that's all I give you, until you find the next hint to uncover the enigma of your psyche.'

Feeling somewhat stumped, Alice almost forgot to ask a vital question to her mystery guest. 'What is your name, anyway?' she asked curiously.

The voice laughed. 'You already know the answer to that... my dear.'

A blinding light permeated her eyelids, and creasing them, she opened her eyes, and stared up at the ceiling of the March Hare's abode. Mystified, Alice slowly sat up in the faintly sunlit room. The bedroom was filled with furniture, and there was no hearth or mirror visible, but a window confirmed the coming of dawn. At least she had escaped from this uncanny reverie.

A heart is her clue. What kind of heart? A human heart? An animal's heart? Or is it simply a metaphor, and she must uncover a kind of connotation of existence. _Doesn't everyone try, _she said to herself. At least she had the visit to the ancient ruins to solve this brainteaser.

As the sun ascended above the woods, the other inhabitants awoke. Downstairs the Hatter was preparing a luscious breakfast once again, however this time, the meal took place in the kitchen below rather than outside.

'It's a little chilly outside at the moment,' informed the Hatter once Alice asked. He poured a cup of tea into her cup, at which Alice sipped so quickly she ignored the heat scorch her tongue. The pain did sort of motivate last night's experience into the dark, mercifully.

'Watch you don't burn yourself,' said a concerned Hatter as he lowered the teapot and sat at the table.

'Too late!' breathed the Dormouse as he fanned his tongue.

'So where exactly are we going?' enquired the Hare, pointing a spoon at the Hatter.

'O, it's a secret,' he answered vaguely, however excitement was waltzing in his eyes.

'Is it far?' asked the Hare again.

'Quite a bit, yes, so fill up!' said the Hatter, and he started on his brunch.

'Why, are we not bringing any supplies with us?'

'A few nibbles but nothing more.'

'Hmm,' mumbled the Hare, and then silence fell upon the table.

The weather become unpleasantly cold, thus Alice wrapped herself up warm in a coat and scarf, and warmed herself up more by the flaming hearth. The others were preparing to leave before a familiar grin appeared from nowhere beside the fire.

'Morning, Alice,' said the crescent outline.

'Morning, Chessur,' she said back.

'Looking forward to this little walk up north?' he asked pleasantly as his body materialised in following.

'Yes, it should be thrilling,' she said half-heartedly as she fitted a pair of gloves on her hands.

'Indeed it should,' said the Cheshire Cat silkily, and with that he floated off towards the others.

It was time to leave, and once Alice stepped foot out into the open, the chill hit her like frying pan to the face. Binding herself tightly within the layers of clothes, Alice folded her arms, and positioned the scarf carefully around her neck to mask every bit of skin, and even the lobes of her ears. The Hatter wore his usual garments, which were covered in his usual auburn frock-coat; the Hare in a waist-coat, the Dormouse huddled in the Hatter's pocket, and the Cheshire Cat – well – his own natural coat.

And thus leaving the house - leaving the garden behind - the quadruple began their travel north.

Passing through the neighbouring woods, Alice embraced the morning beauty of her world. The dawning sun suffused the forest in pale gold, and as it rose in the east, her rays passed through the canopies, illuminating the forest floor in spotlights of gold. The autumn leaves sheeted the ground, and with every step the crisp sound rang through the understory. It was a beautiful melody that nature played, and Alice never once ignored her symphony.

It astounded her to discover how different the scenery became through each region. Firstly they strolled through the paths of the forest floor, and then emerged out into the countryside, and then alongside a small valley where a rapid stream raged below. And every time within the distance the faint outline of snow-kissed mountains marked the horizon. It was simply beautiful, and even more so with the dawning star tinting the snow in ochre shades.

Why did she ever think of leaving this world behind? In fact, how could she imagine such a place? It was like something out of an artist's painting. It was purely... wonderful.

Time flew quickly, and before she knew it they had arrived at their destination. The area was enclosed by an ocean of trees, but a stream ran through near the edge. There was only one road leading through and it was hardly noticeable as the weeds overcame the dirt. The manmade features were just as weathered: the only standing wooden structures of what Alice guessed were houses were rotten, frail and plastered in moss and ivy. The small fields were enfolded in the same type of wood, and the meadows themselves were overgrown and abundant with wild plants. Stone structures were the only true standing edifices, despite being overrun with ivy and brambles. The place seriously was a ruin, and defiantly over a century old.

'And why exactly would Thackery adore this place?' asked an unconvinced Alice to the Hatter.

At once the Hatter pointed northward, and to Alice's astonishment there stood the foundation of a stone fortress, built upon a slightly elevated mound. It was damaged more than the rest of the village: the turrets were destroyed and razed, half the structure was impaired and ripped away, and again, the plants had claimed victory over man's creation.

'O, well, that certainly is interesting,' said an awed Alice. 'It's strange how I did not see that at first.'

'You may have mistaken a part of it for one of the lesser buildings,' said the Hatter.

'I don't see how I could have; it's evidently greater than the rest of the ruins.'

As they progressed to the centre, Alice stumbled over something buried in the weeds. _Probably just a rock, _she thought simply, and she continued to the midst of the village.

'Behold!' cried the Hatter suddenly, 'the ruins of Dareshire.'

'Dareshire?' asked Alice, and peering at a wooden plaque hanging of a wooden pole the faint white scripture upon the wood said:

_THE VILLAGE OF DARESHIRE_

_The home of the Heartless_

'The Heartless?' said Alice. The name rang a bell.

'Here,' said the Cheshire cat, and he handed a placard to Alice. Immediately, she began to read:

'_The Village of Dareshire is a famously historical site in Wonderland's recorded chronology. Once the home of the founder of the Heartless – a faction that rebelled against the Heart Monarchy over a hundred years ago – the site has been renowned for this factor. The initiator, Regulus Cortus, recruited many from his hometown of Dareshire in order to antagonise and overcome the influence of the House of Hearts. The reason for this was due to an act of injustice upon the inhabitants of Wonderland and claimed that they were "stripped of their liberty". Regulus Cortus, and co-founder Vitor Ambrose, became role-models for rebellious individuals and this sparked controversy throughout Wonderland. An assault upon the Heart Castle itself ignited great uproar and chaos and Wonderland was plunged into a war of justice and inequality. A protest occurred before the gates of the castle, but when the King and Queen celebrated the birth of their daughter, Seraphina Heart, the warfare became shocking and appalling when a genuine assassination contract was made for the extermination of the newborn baby. The assassination proved a failure, and the Heart Army were sent to Dareshire in order to end this rampage. The Guardians and the Monarchy razed Dareshire to the ground and imprisoned many of the inhabitants, and the unlucky were executed, including Regulus Cortus himself. The Dareshire Fortress was demolished, and the Duke and Duchess incarcerated for life, and the Heartless were no more. Thus the village of Dareshire was abandoned and is now a remainder of a dark and infamous past.'_

A thick silence concluded the reading, and Alice dropped the placard to the floor. She peered at a half-smiling Cheshire Cat. 'So,' she whispered heavily, 'this place was the home of the Heartless?'

'Indeed it was,' he replied gravely. 'And look what else I found.' He handed over another notice to Alice, and it was engraved upon stone. Upon it was a lengthy poem, and aloud Alice read:

'_Yarn upon the loom,_

_Silver strands weaved the veins of life._

_Swirling spirals exploded,_

_The sounds of notes from the mystic fife._

_Veins of water run,_

_Pulse the drums of the riveting dream._

_Mirrors of creation shine;_

_Evaporating the psyche like ghostly steam._

_Warfare and dread;_

_Guardians of the mind,_

_Soul Two takes his final stance._

_Friendship will wed;_

_Creator of the mind,_

_Soul One wins this final chance._

_Stars within the blue,_

_Separated the night with the dawning day,_

_Severing the border line,_

_The edge between lives ends its fray._

_Vanishing the ancient hate,_

_Lion Heart perished in shards of lies,_

_Sphere of Enchantment breaks,_

_Returning the breath o' so high._

_The Maker is come…_

_The Maker is our One…_

_In Wonder and Charm, in Hopes and Dreams…'_

'What does that mean?' asked the Hatter, who had appeared by her side once she finished.

'I have not a clue,' she said, and she dropped the stone to the ground.

'It's rather an alluring poem though, I must say,' said the Cheshire Cat. 'It's called _Duanimus _if you didn't notice on the top of the slab.'

'And what exactly does Duanimus mean?' asked again the Hatter.

'It sounds like Latin to me,' answered Alice.

'What's that?' asked a curious Dormouse from inside the pocket of the Hatter.

'It's a language in my world,' she answered, 'it's an ancient language but we learnt it in school anyway.'

Breaking from the ring Alice saw the March Hare scanning the ruins, who was deeply allured in the scenery. She was rather engrossed in it too, and her mind was loaded with masses of questions after reading both the poem and the article. Dareshire: the home of the Heartless. Did this mean that Leo was born here? What does Duanimus have to do with the village? And why exactly was it so important to come here? She wondered then if this had anything to do with "heart"...

_I'm buried but very much alive. I'm hidden but very much clear. I never stop; I never rest, for if I do, everything ends._

The Heart Monarchy... the Heartless... this may be a piece of the puzzle. She just needed the answer to the rest of the enquiries. She just needed the answers, to both reveal the truth about this obscured man of her mind, and the history of this fascinating world.


	4. Memories of the Trap

**A/N: **This chapter turned out to be much longer than planned! I hope you enjoy this upload.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Memories of the Trap**

Dareshire…What an absorbing and yet unsettling history a town can hold within its ruined walls. It was strange to wonder why she had never discovered this place before, but then again, neither had the others. It was a rather secluded village and the woods surrounding it did sort of enclose the area, but the scale of the village was fairly vast, and the only standing spire of the fortress would have been spotted easily over the canopies, or at least above from any aerial creatures. Peculiar, she thought, that this was the birth place of an infamous faction… of a notorious villain…

The March Hare had ceased his ogling and returned to speak with the Hatter beside what looked like the remains of a church. _Not possible, _thought Alice, for religion here she deemed was dissimilar to those back in her birth world. In fact, she thought suddenly, what _did _these creatures believe? What _was_ their religion? It was a wonder why she never asked this to any of her cohabitants, or to anyone in general. That was another question now added to her list of "unasked and important enquiries".

The clouds were beginning to loom above, and the heat of the sun was fading. The silver sky was a discouraging sight, and the expectance of rain was now hoisting. And so, scurrying through the unkempt grass, Alice decided to rejoin the group. That was until a rustling came from just beyond the remnants of a small dwelling nearby. Stopping suddenly, Alice peered around with great curiosity. Another rustle of leaves sounded; the same pitch as before. Creeping towards it with caution, she laid a hand on the corner of the ruins, and slowly, and warily, she poked her head out from around the side.

Nothing was there.

Heedlessly, she turned back with a smile of inanity on her face. 'You're too worried lately,' she said to herself lightly, feeling silly at her paranoid mind.

The snap of a twig sounded behind her, and as the smile was wiped clean off her face she turned to look back. A hooded figure in black stood there, rigid as stone, starring straight at Alice. Without a chance to cast out an air of breath, the figure spun around and ran.

'Wait!' called Alice, chasing after the figure.

The figure was swifter than she was; it galloped through the borders of the village and made directly for the shady forest. Stopping at the limits of the wood, Alice watched the figure disappear amongst the trees and out of view. Panting, and feet sore from bustling through nettles and brambles, Alice turned swiftly to call for the others.

'Tarrant! Thackery!' she yelled desperately. 'Chessur! Mallymkun!'

The Hatter was the first to see her dash towards them. With a great look of concern upon his face he caught Alice before she stumbled to the ground. 'Alice! What is it? Why are you yelling?'

'A person!' she wheezed. 'I saw… a person.'

'A person?' the Hatter repeated, brows furrowing. 'Why would that be peculiar, Alice?'

'Why wouldn't it?' she retorted as she shuffled away from his arms. 'They were hooded and cloaked in black. Just that in general is suspicious.'

'Well, where are they now?'

'They ran away,' she said. 'They ran into the forest. I couldn't keep up with them.'

'What is with all the ruckus?' said a troubled March Hare as he came trotting up to their side. He shot them quick glances of great inquisitiveness. 'Well?'

'There was a person, apparently,' answered the Hatter, who was beginning to see the humorous side to this subject.

The Hare looked disappointed. 'Is that it?' he said exasperatedly. 'Is that what all the commotion was about?'

Alice's face burned red. 'Is that it?' she repeated bitterly. She growled. 'Are none of you understanding how queer this is? The person was hooded, and they ran exactly when they caught sight of me.'

'And why would this seem odd?' asked the Hare.

'The fact that they _ran away,' _snapped Alice heatedly. 'If this was just some ordinary passerby or sightseer they wouldn't have loped into the forest now, wouldn't have they?'

The Hatter and the Hare looked at each other for a moment, and then back at Alice, their faces seemingly amused by Alice's misgivings. Stroking his chin, the Hatter's eyes narrowed as they scanned Alice's. After a few moments, he spoke. 'So,' he began at length, 'what did they look like?'

_A mindless question_, thought Alice irritably. Venomously sighing, she answered in a forced calm voice. 'They wore a black cloak, and they were hooded. I didn't really catch sight of what their face looked like. Though, I _think _it _may _have been a woman.'

'Why a woman?' exclaimed the Dormouse suddenly, who had decided to pop out from the top of the Hatter's pocket and join in on the conversation.

'It was just the way they moved,' she answered. 'But I might be wrong. That's my guess, anyway, but then, when have my guesses ever been right?'

. . .

The trip to Dareshire ended quite abruptly. Late afternoon the troupe left the enclosure and returned back to the March Hare's house. As a historical trip turned into a forbidding outing – what with hooded persons sneaking about and the grim factor of the village's past – the company seemed on edge when dinnertime approached.

Eating inside, for outside it began to rain, the group – Alice, the Hatter, the Hare and the Dormouse (the Cheshire Cat had left before they returned back to the house) – gathered around the smaller interior table, consuming silently as they listened to the rain hammer down onto the roof above. Pouring steaming tea into a cup, Alice glanced gingerly to the other's movements: they all were, of course, engrossed in their meals, or rather, pretending to be to evade even the slightest spark of conversation. Alice knew exactly what was resting agitatedly upon their minds, for it was the same with hers.

Alice knew from knowledge from (to great extent) fairy-stories, or in fact novels in general, that a hooded figure is usually an ill omen, normally concealing a sinister and unwelcoming presence, and thus this sudden encounter was mistrustful and disturbing. At least, Alice thought to try and break the awkwardness inside her mind, that this person did not make any attempt in harming her and her companions. Although she wondered oppositely, to the belief that if Alice did not turn in time, the figure may have made an attempt to assault them. No one casually turns up to an olden ruin dressed in black if not there to cause mischief. As one of Alice's irksome habits, she was greatly curious to discover who this person was, and what their business was in the town of an unlawful faction.

'I wonder if it will persist in raining all night,' wondered the Hare lightly, rupturing the solid silence that had been intact for too long. 'It will be very difficult in sleeping with the drumming of rainfall crashing down onto my roof.'

'I don't believe the rain will last,' said the Hatter, gulping his tea down quickly, resulting in choking mildly. The Hare, sitting beside him, patted him on the back to end his coughing. Recovering, the Hatter continued. 'Anyway,' he began, moving the tea aside, 'I am done with my meal, and if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go ahead and continue in my profession in which I haven't maintained for quite some time. That's hat-making if none of you gathered what it was,' and with that the Hatter arose and disappeared upstairs.

The Dormouse yawned. 'I am done too,' he said as he rubbed his tiny eyes, 'and I am very tired. Goodnight, everyone,' and with that, he climbed up the stairs and out of sight also.

Thus Alice and the Hare were left downstairs to clean up the remains. They spoke not to each other, and the only sound was the clatter of plates and the clanking of cutlery. It suddenly occurred to Alice that she would be needing sleep, and she did not wish to revisit that peculiar dream she had last night. Although she was in half at this point: one part of her wished to meet again the obscure and imperceptible person that seemed to float around her mind much lately, and the other begged her to stay wide awake in order to avoid that ghostly dream world again.

The Hare dragged himself to bed after he finished clearing up, and this left Alice all alone downstairs. Suggesting things to keep her awake, as Alice's squabble was concluded, she took out several books, all ones that she had never read before. There were such likes as: _The Hunting of the Snark, _which sounded oddly interesting, and a tattered tome which read: _Receivers and Defenders, _which Alice deemed was a historical story, and therefore she opened the book, sat down wrapped him a blanket, and started to read…

. . .

'Duanimus,' whispered the voice sinisterly. 'I am greatly familiar with that term, dear Alice.'

'Then what does it mean?' she asked sharply. 'It sounds like Latin although I'm not sure if it is.'

'I gather that to be a language in your previous world,' said the voice. 'Not that I am entitled to reveal such information so soon, I will just reveal to you instead a little theory.'

Alice, gazing out the window to the ivory moon, waited for the voice to begin.

'This has nothing to do with Duanimus,' he said, 'but I couldn't help but notice you reading something familiar before you dozed off. There is so much for you to learn, but you shouldn't have to learn it because you already know it, but you're not aware that you do. You are a teacher not a student, Alice, and you cannot teach yourself what you have taught before. You are very befuddled with the way things work in this world compared to your old one, and this confuses the mind, therefore resulting in a malfunction, you see.'

'You think my mind has malfunctioned?' said Alice stridently, drumming her fingernails on the windowsill in aggravation.

'No, no, it's still malfunctioning,' answered the voice nonchalantly, 'because it has not adapted here, despite the fact that it already has.'

'You're making no sense at all,' retorted Alice.

'The sense that I'm making is plain,' snapped the voice, 'I stand by for what I presently said: your mind is faulty, and therefore it is not working well. But your heart, Alice, that's working all too well. Are you listening to your heart more than your mind? That may make sense; your mind feels neglected, and as a result it repays the favour by being ignorant and casting out all vital information, and if you still had this information, Alice, then I wouldn't have any need to keep returning every night!'

'So you're blaming me for this?'

'Not you entirely, no,' said the voice quickly. 'This is your mind, Alice, and just look at it: it's dark, empty, and yet somehow it clings onto nostalgia. It's seriously befuddled! There is no door at all, and every night so far your mind tugs you into this room or some dark tunnel to see me: the voice of self-discovery.'

'So you really are a part of my conscience,' said Alice.

'I act as that little whisper inside everyone's minds that shows them the way and lets one find themselves again. So, yes, I sort of am.'

'So,' said Alice at length as she turned to walk over to the rocking-horse and made to trace its surface, 'you want me to find myself, or rather, myself in this world.'

'You catch on rather quickly, surprisingly,' said the voice delightedly, 'which it really is because I always judged you as a dim person, given the morbid scenery of your head.'

'You're too kind,' said Alice acerbically. Ending her stroking of the horse's ropey mane, Alice turned to face the moonlit strip on the floor. 'I found a clue to the Heart,' she said slowly, 'going to Dareshire was a clever idea.'

'Ah, you discovered the conflict between the Heart Monarchy and the Heartless,' said the voice happily. 'That's brilliant progress; however, you're missing just one more link to that riddle.'

'And what would that be?' she asked.

The voice chuckled. 'Again, I'll let you figure that out for yourself, but for now, I think there's someone who wishes to see you…'

. . .

As her eyes darted open, she found herself enveloped in darkness. A half moon's rays penetrated the window and illuminated the room mildly; however, all was still and black. Peering down the book lay opened on her lap. Removing it and placing it onto a table, a sudden movement alerted her as a shadow passed over the moonlight.

Heart leaping in alarm Alice swiveled to look towards the window, where a familiar presence glanced through the glass, their round shadow obscuring the lamp of night. Body frozen, Alice could not permit herself to do anything other than stare back. As the figure caught the glint of Alice's eyes in the faint glow, their hand moved. Softly and steadily, their hand grazed the glass. The shrill screech of nails disturbed the hush, and an unpleasant chill tickled the nerves in Alice's spine. The figure abruptly stopped, and in its place they started to knock upon the glass.

'Who are you?' said Alice unsteadily. She found it difficult to speak. She was terrified; the echo of the gratings did not leave the ears.

Undoubtedly it appeared the figure beckoned Alice forth. If terror was at its pinnacle, it strangely began to descend. She was not reluctant, she was not afraid. This impulsive change was unfathomably strange. Although as this figure signaled for her approach, Alice obeyed, as though she had nothing to fear, as though hypnotised by the graceful swaying of their hand.

She moved towards the door as quiet as the night, and without hesitation, she opened it. It was chilly and damp after the rain earlier, but the skies were visible as the silver clouds migrated to the east. Shutting the door behind her she turned to her right to see the figure standing rigidly beside the window.

Obtaining the will to speak after the daze, Alice spoke gingerly. 'What do you want?'

The figure said nothing.

Alice tried again. 'You're the figure that was at Dareshire yesterday, aren't you? Why did you run away from me, and why are you here at this time of night?'

After a prolonged hush, the figure stepped forth and spoke. 'I know who you are,' they said quietly. Their voice was grim, and by the feminine tone, Alice gathered her belief was right.

Alice shuffled unnervingly where she stood. 'You do?' she asked uneasily.

'Yeah,' she said at length. 'I followed you 'ere, not long after you left.'

'It is rather lovely to know that I have my own stalker,' said Alice awkwardly, and she shimmied away from the figure. 'Why are you here, then? What do you want?'

'Look, I ain't 'ere to cause trouble-,'

'Evidently,' snapped Alice with a quiver in her voice. 'You just so happen to run away when I called you back when we were at Dareshire, and now you've followed me back to my own home. You're wearing a cloak, for goodness sake! If that isn't distrustful then I don't know what is.'

The figure sighed sharply. 'You're pretty impudent, you know! Look, I din know who you were at first and I din expect anybody at that village. I saw you, got alarmed and legged it! It was only when I reached the woods did I realize who I just encountered. So, forgive me, Alice.'

Alice narrowed her eyes. 'You know my name?'

'Well I did say I knew who you were,' said the figure. Quickly she moved her head from side to side, and hesitantly she reached inside her robe and pulled out a tattered parchment. 'I knew you 'ad been 'ere for ages, but I din expect you at the village. 'Ere,' she handed the parchment to Alice. 'I was gonna send this to one of your friends but after finding out where you lived I thought I'd give it to you personally. It's important.'

Unfolding the frayed paper Alice used the aid of the moonlight to look upon it, although it was difficult to decipher what was upon it, Alice did make out a few notes. "The Pool of Tears", whispered Alice. That name rang a bell.

'It's marked on the map,' said the figure. 'Someone there wants to see you. At least make your way there tomorrow or somethin'.

'Who wants to see me exactly?'

The figure shook her head. 'I can't say,' she said flatly. 'Just make your way there and look for the Waterfall. When you see it you'll see other signs. I can't reveal anymore.'

'What Waterfall?'

'Well, there's only one Waterfall,' murmured the figure. 'You can't miss it. I'll meet you there sometime around the afternoon. 'Opefully you'll make it. I 'ope you do.' With that the figure turned to leave.

'Wait, hold on!' called Alice, rolling up the parchment. 'If I'm apparently rendezvousing with a stranger I am at least entitled to ask for your name.'

The figure sighed hoarsely as she stopped in her tracks. Hesitantly it seemed, she eventually pulled back her dark hood, and in the pale radiance of the moonlight she showed her face. She was blonde, but there were strips of brown mingled within the gold, and grateful for the shimmer of the moon upon her eyes she saw that they were hazel. She looked no older than Alice, or maybe even younger at that.

Exhaling yet another sigh, the girl spoke. 'I'm Lysandra. Now that you know the face and name of your "stalker", I'm no longer a stranger,' and throwing her hood back over her face she departed into the night.

A bitter gust of wind wafted away the confusion that was dictating Alice; it only chipped the wall of mystification, however. _Did that actually happen, _thought a puzzled Alice. Maybe she was still dreaming; it seemed too casual and placid, even if the corners were jagged with discomfiture.

Alice returned back inside the house. It was an incredibly strange encounter, very surreal, and Alice began to contemplate whether she was still dreaming. Quickly pinching herself, she realized she was not when the pain throbbed beneath her skin. It would be difficult to get back to sleep, and funnily enough she did not feel weary anymore. Peering up at the clock upon the mantelpiece she saw that it was four in the morning. She did not sleep for long, but she felt refreshed despite that, as though a spring of energy had miraculously dawned inside her. Moving her mind away from slumber, Alice thought it a good idea to interpret more of the parchment that Lysandra had given her. Who is Lysandra? Where did she come from? They were just more questions added to her list, where the answer would not be easy to find.

She switched on the gas lamp upon a desk near the stairs, moved to the side all the clutter, and unrolled the paper out on the table. It was a map of Wonderland, and with a black ring drawn near the top left corner was the location called the "Pool of Tears". Alice knew this place from memory, seeing as it was her tears that crafted the pool in the first place. What was actually there thought she knew not, but whatever was there may be vital and another piece of the puzzle that the voice in her head wishes her to solve. A route was also drawn out in how to travel there from Dareshire, yet the village was ten miles from this location, meaning that the journey to the Pool would be double the voyage! Alice groaned to think of walking so far in such short time. Maybe there was another way?

Before she could decide a muffled noise sounded from upstairs. Quickly she rolled back up the map when she heard footsteps trailing down the hallway above, and shoving the map into one of the drawers Alice rapidly grabbed the nearest book beside her, sat herself on the stool by the desk and pretended to read, and just in time before the Hatter appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

His eyes were heavily lidded, his hair messier than usual, and he was wrapped in a nightgown. 'What are you doing?' he asked hoarsely, yawning in the process. It seemed a challenge to keep his eyes open.

Alice acted as though she was too engrossed in the book to answer immediately, which would have been unattainable as the book was a dreary archive of geographical schematics and notes. 'Hm?' she mumbled as she peered up over the top of the book at him. 'O, just reading.'

'I'm sure facts on river erosion are an engaging read,' he said. 'I thought I heard voices coming from down here.'

She stammered. 'O, no, I was just, err, acting out a Shakespearean play.'

'Who?'

She waved a hand. 'Never mind,' and with that she went back to the highly interesting text book on the creation of tributaries.

The Hatter did not leave, and instead he furrowed his brows and scanned Alice, as though she was the book herself. He sighed wearily. 'Alright, then,' he said at length, 'I'll leave you to it.'

Without realizing the wearing trait of the Hatter, Alice asked loudly: 'Where can one rent a horse?' It was too late before she tried to stop. It was now to be a suspicious glare, a bombardment of enquiries and a badgering Hat Man on for hours on end.

She was not wrong either; the Hatter glanced at her in sudden curiosity. 'Why do you want to know that?'

Alice shrugged her shoulders. 'It was just on my mind,' she said. It was a pretty poor excuse, for sure.

The Hatter's eyes narrowed. 'The village of Chesbury,' he replied hesitantly, 'just a mile from here. We go there all the time to buy food, Alice.'

'O, I knew that,' she said quickly, and she hid her face behind the book, hoping that he would disappear back upstairs if she did. She hesitated. 'Um, it would just be nice to move about with the aid of another rather than our feet.'

'Right,' he said slowly. He was not fooled; he knew Alice all too well, and to conceal herself behind a textbook was not going to hinder his inquisitiveness. However, as the doziness was too overwhelming to obstruct any longer, the Hatter turned and left, saying behind a quick 'G'night' in the process.

Finally Alice put the tedious book down on the desk and took a long and heavy sigh. She could not keep lying and evading the Hatter for so long; eventually he would find out about her intentions, and the thought of discovering her meeting up with a stranger in a far place would certainly ascend all uncertainties. However for now, mendaciousness seemed to be the only option for the time being.

Alice did not go back to sleep. Instead, at around six o'clock, she hurriedly made a change of clothes, grabbed her coat, scarf and gloves, and also the map and money (she kindly left a note for the Hare that she would pay him back when she could), and without food or grooming she rushed out the door into the breaking dawn.

It was still dark, but the pale amber on the horizon and the thinning of the dark blue of the sky made for an easier journey with light. She did feel a tinge of guilt within her by leaving her companions back at the house unbeknown to her departure, but she could not explain her intents; she could not elucidate her suspicious and odd behaviour to them without them thinking she was queer. To even tell them that a mystifying voice had been talking to her in her sleep about finding hearts and malfunctioning minds would be plainly extraordinary, and rather alarming. Hearing voices, especially unrevealed and riddling ones, is a disturbing incident. They'd think she'd gone mad! Well, at least she'd fit in at last…

It was almost half-an-hour when Alice made it to Chesbury, a quaint little village similar to rural hamlets where she once lived. They had the same style an English settlement contained: a market place, a blacksmith, carpenters, tailors, post office, shoemakers and many others. It was no less different in her world beside the fact that garbed animals inhabited the village, and if that ever happened back there then it would be exceedingly peculiar.

The village was quiet save for a small number walking down the main street: man quenching the flames in the gas lamps, a milk maid ambling down the road with two buckets full of fresh cow milk and a boy messenger jogging up the street with a heavy load of newspapers. It was always a charming sight to see people; it reminded her greatly of the life she used to live before her return to this world, and yet how mundane it seemed. The abnormal sight of a cloth-wearing fox or a badger with a top hat helped pull her back from nostalgia.

It was the stables she was heading to. She remembered one located on the outskirts of the village; she had passed it on multiple occasions. She was bound to have a horse lent to her there. Passing across the winding streets of Chesbury Alice emerged upon the fringe of the village, where to her right upon a sloping hill was a farm; a picturesque ranch with a reasonable sized barn and, of course, a stable.

Approaching the gate – where a sign was placed, and upon it it said: "Snowdrop Farm", and underneath, "We do _not_ breed Mome Raths!" – Alice opened it and advanced into the clearing of the dwelling. Trudging through the squelching mud she made her way to the front of the residence, where she rapped moderately at the door. If the residents were not awake before hand, then Alice's hammering most surely would have snapped them from sleep.

The muffled sound of movement came from within, and moments later the door narrowly opened, where a pair of a man's weary eyes peered out from behind the corner. 'What do you want?' he grunted exasperatedly.

'Good morning, kind sir,' greeted Alice in a courteous way. 'I am sorry if I have disturbed you, however, I was so curiously wondering if one may have the permission of acquiring one of your fine horses for the day.'

'You want to hire a horse at _this _time?' he murmured. 'Do you know what time it is?'

'Indeed I do, good sir, it is,' she pulled out a pocket watch from her coat pocket, 'just gone half six.'

'Exactly!' groaned the man. 'Come back when it's a decent time!'

Before he was able to shut the door Alice stopped him. 'I would if I could, good sir, however I am in a hurry and I could not possibly reach my destination in the estimated time without needs of transportation. Would you honestly refuse to help a woman in such dire and desperate need?'

There was a pause for a few moments before the man answered, 'yes!' and he slammed the door in her face.

_How rude! _thought Alice hotly. With a heated sigh Alice turned to leave. 'Such discourteous behaviour!' she complained. 'Now what am I to do?'

Before she could descry another alternative a familiar face came hopping down the road beside the farm, and he seemed in a great urgency. The White Rabbit's tardiness would have gone without delay until he caught a glimpse of an unexpected presence before his path. Alarmed, he attempted to creep past without her noticing, but to his disappointment, that did not go as planned.

'Nivens?' called a curious Alice from beyond the gate.

Freezing in his path the Rabbit hesitantly turned to her and made a forced smile. 'O, Alice!' he cried in false merriment. 'I did not see you there!'

'Where are you heading off to?' she asked as she walked towards the gate.

'O, just into town for a few errands,' he answered unevenly. He twiddled his little paws when he said this, and even though Alice noticed this strange behaviour she did not bother to ask. The Rabbit continued. 'So, what are _you _doing in Snowdrop Farm? Old Duckworth is a miserable piece of work, you know.'

'Yes, I know, I had the misfortune of discovering that personally,' she said irritably. 'Anyway, I wonder if you can help me, Nivens. I need to obtain a means of transportation, and I suggested a horse-,'

'Yes, horses are great transport, but you won't get any luck from Duckworth unless you know how to please him.'

Alice's eyes glimmered with curiosity. 'Please, do say.'

Although agitated for being hindered, the Rabbit spoke anyway. 'I've discovered that Duckworth likes to collect cards. If you can give him dozens of decks of cards then you're in luck.'

'I don't have a deck of cards,' she said miserably. 'And where exactly am I going to get any, Nivens? Point me in the right direction.'

Impatience was getting the better of the Rabbit, but he still stayed to help. 'I'm sure the Hatter will have some-,'

'I'm not going back to the house to get cards, Nivens,' she said flatly.

'Then I don't know. Listen, Alice, I must get moving, I cannot stay any longer,' and with that he went hopping off down the road and out of sight.

Where could she get a pack of playing cards? This was a curious collectable, however, if the Rabbit was right then Duckworth would lend her a horse for her journey to the Pool of Tears. But she could not be long. Perhaps there would be someone in town that sells a pack.

Making her way back into the village Alice browsed the shop windows for any sign of pack of cards. Unfortunately all the shops were closed at such early hours, and Alice was not willing to wait until they opened with the little time she had left. _Surely I could bribe him with money, _thought Alice. People like money, she knew from her world. But maybe things worked differently here. Maybe coins were not the only currency here in Wonderland. Nothing ever made sense here.

Just when she thought all hope was surely lost, she heard the shouts of a man from the bottom of the main street. When she scurried to see, it was not a man at all. In fact, it was a fox wearing a long coat and a flat cap upon his amber head. From observing the fox more closely, it appeared the fox was selling a load of goods in crates and trunks. It seemed dubious and possibly illegitimate, but perchance he owned a pack of fifty-two perfectly well-cared playing cards. Well, there was only one way to find out...

'Excuse me,' she called when she shuffled towards him.

The fox peered up from beneath his cap at Alice, and made a roguish smile. 'Well, mornin' to you, missy. What is a perfectly unspoiled lady like you want from Mr. Reynard, hm?'

'Well, Mr. Reynard, I was wondering if you were selling a deck of playing cards.'

The fox grinned. 'Maybe I do, maybe I don't.'

'Then which is it?' she said.

'Why a deck of cards, my lady?' he asked, folding his arms and persisting in his grinning.

Alice narrowed her eyes; this was evidently going to be a challenge. 'I have lost multiple cards in my old pack, and my friends are to come round to play later in the day. I wish to buy a new pack so that may happen.'

The fox grumbled. 'How many cards are missin'?

Alice thought rapidly, and blurted out a random number. 'Seven.'

'Then you have forty-five top-notch cards than to spend so much on more that you already own,' he said with a sneer.

'Are you willing to sell me seven cards from your deck, then, Mr. Reynard?' she said firmly.

The fox shook his head. 'Absolutely not, it would no longer be a deck, otherwise!'

Alice sighed heavily. 'May I please buy the pack of cards from you, Mr. Reynard?'

'I didn't even say I owned a deck, ma'am,' he sneered.

'O, Mr. Reynard, I'm positively certain you do, because if you didn't you would not have been offended if I asked to take seven. If you did not own a deck, then you would have been half-hearted to the idea.'

There was a pause. The fox seemed surprisingly shocked. He knew also this was to be a challenge for him also. He grinned. 'You're a clever one, my lady,' he sneered. 'Obviously you're used to this kind of game. Tell you what, ma'am: I'll tell you a riddle and you tell me one, and if you don't answer mine, you will not have the deck. But if I don't answer yours, then the deck is yours to take. And we'll keep going and going until one of us fails.'

This seemed pointless, thought Alice. 'Can I not just give you coins, Mr. Reynard?' she asked as she showed him the purse of money.

He shook his head. 'I don't use coins,' he said simply, 'riddles and wits are my currency.'

If desperation was high already in Alice it had shot sky high by now. To answer riddles to obtain a pack of cards to acquire a horse was so tedious, all to see someone in a distant and unknown place to meet someone Alice knew not at all of. Perhaps she should turn back home now and abandon the whole expedition. Although what would the voice say next time she slept? Would it be disappointed in her? But was it really a colossal task to discover herself, or was she exaggerating the whole concept? Torn between two opposites, Alice would never stop unless it was completely the end; therefore, she accepted the fox's challenge.

The fox grinned. 'Excellent,' he said in dark delight. 'Here is my riddle:

_John gave his brother James a box:_

_About it there were many locks._

_James woke and said it gave him pain;_

_So gave it back to John again._

_The box was not with lid supplied,_

_Yet caused two lids to open wide;_

_And all these locks had never a key-_

_What kind of box, then, could it be?'_

Alice was usually quick when it came to solving riddles. The "heart" riddle was not too tricky, but this one left her in a sticky position. Concentrating so hard and deciphering each line with care, it was a while before she answered the fox, in which he gathered this to be failure. But before he could make his triumphant grin, Alice answered: 'John gave James a box on the head.'

The fox's eyes widened with dismay. Quickly though he hid with in a deceitful smile of delight. 'Well done, ma'am, quite a quick one you are. Now, ask me a riddle.'

Alice contemplated firstly to use the "heart" riddle, but she gathered that would be too easy. So instead, she went ahead and asked a riddle in which she herself did not know the answer too, and neither did the one who asked her in the first place:

'Why is a raven like a writing desk?' she asked, a flame of wicked pleasure burning inside her.

The fox wondered greatly, and his eyes darted back and forth in thought. He stammered and hesitated, and for a while Alice believed she was victorious. When the fox produced no answer to her riddle, Alice smiled.

'Well, what a shame,' she sneered.

The fox frowned. 'Because it slopes with a flap,' he said sharply and desperately.

Alice pulled a puzzled look. _That could be a reasonable answer_, she thought. But as the fox knew not the true answer, with the fact there was not one to begin with, Alice smirked. 'I'm afraid that's not the answer, Mr. Reynard.'

The fox harrumphed. 'Then what is?'

'Nothing,' she answered simply.

The fox spat on the floor in fury. 'I think you might do something better with the time than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers!'

'Nothing _is_ the answer, Mr. Reynard, every riddle has a solution,' and with that she smiled in triumph.

The fox's face twisted in rage, though he did nothing to physically display that than crumpling together his features. Accepting his bitter defeat, the fox turned to rummage through the boxes, and returning he held in his hands a pack of cards.

'Perfect,' she said, and she took the cards with great glee out of the fox's stiffened hands. She took a quick look through them to see if they were in fine condition and if all were present. Thankfully they were. She smiled to the fox. 'Thank you, Mr. Reynard, and may you have a good day.'

The fox grumbled something rude beneath his breath so Alice could not hear. That did not matter to her, though, because her prize lay in her hands and now in her coat pocket. _Perfect, _she said happily, and she returned back to Snowdrop Farm.

. . .

Rapping on the door Duckworth answered, and seeing Alice again he sighed. 'It's still early, you know!' but again before he could slam the door Alice stopped him.

'O, I am fully aware, good sir, however, I was wondering, what are your thoughts on playing cards?'

Duckworth's eyes seemed to dance with interest. 'What makes you ask?'

'Well, you see, I've had this deck for so long now that I'm not satisfied with it. It is in perfect condition, but cards, you see, as _wonderful _as they are, are not for me. So I was wandering around town asking if anyone wished to buy them off me, but all refused. So I came here to ask you, kind sir, if you wished to buy them?'

Duckworth licked him lips, and fully he opened the door. He was a lanky man with gloomy garments, and his features were wrinkled and aged. He stuttered. 'Well, um, you see, miss, cards are actually a delightful hobby I have, you see. I collect them.'

'O, who would have known?' she said, feigning amazement.

'Yes, who would have, eh?' he said happily.

Alice smiled. 'I will gladly offer you my pack of cards, if you so kindly offer to me what I asked for earlier?'

Duckworth nodded. 'O, yes, of course. I shall lead you to the stables and you may pick out a horse to your fancy. It costs though, you know, but will these cards cost me?'

Alice wondered for a moment. 'How much is a horse?'

'A minimum of fifteen gold coins, though it depends on how far you're travelling.'

'I am travelling to the Pool of Tears up north,' she said.

'Then that'd be an estimate of thirty three gold coins, miss.'

'O, then I'm sure you're certainly not willing to spend thirty three gold coins on a pack of playing cards-,'

'What edition are they?' he said suddenly.

Alice shrugged her shoulders. 'Um,' she took out the cards and examined them. 'Um, Jabberwocky Suite.'

Suddenly Duckworth made a strange squeal of mirth. 'I've been searching so long for that edition,' he said in a quivering voice. It seemed tears were forming in his eyes. This made Alice feel relatively uncomfortable. 'O, such fortuity that you happen to have it!'

'Or coincidence,' she murmured awkwardly.

'The horse is yours!' he said flatly. 'Please, please, come to the stables. O, here,' he disappeared inside his little dwelling, and when he returned he came back with a wallet full of money. 'Thirty four gold coins,' he said as he popped them all in a pouch and gave it to Alice.

'I thought you said thirty three?'

'I did, but seeing as you have my long searched edition you deserve an extra coin. Goodness, I believe you'd deserve much more, actually!'

This was becoming increasingly amusing to Alice. How can one become so mirthful over a pack of cards, and be willing to spend so much on them? _This place has never made sense, _she thought.

Immediately Duckworth led her to the stables. Inside there were pens full of various breeds of horses, and unlike the horses in her world which said naught, these ones did. They all greeted her when she walked to see them.

'Well, howdy, little missy! I'm sure ya'll wanna pick me!'

'How do you do, my lady? I am certainly sure your fancy is for a stallion of such stature and grace, therefore, I am your perfect choice.'

'Nonsense, she wants one of lightning speed and agility. I happen to have just that, you know!'

'If you all keep pressuring the poor girl she won't pick you at all!' said Duckworth with a shake of the head. He stopped near the middle of the pens and turned to face Alice. 'Well, miss, take your pick.'

All the horses were beautiful and intriguing. Alice had a delightful love of horses. She sometimes rode them during riding lessons, and her father owned many wonderful horses that helped much in fox hunting, cart-pulling and overall adventuring. There were – using the native name back in her world from what she recognised – Shire horses, Clysdale horses, Suffolk horses among a small number of ponies, but there was one that caught Alice's eye above all the rest, and this stallion remained the quietest of the lot.

'And what is your name?' she asked the stallion.

In his own time, the stallion looked up at her with obsidian eyes and answered: 'Eros,' he said in a surprisingly charming voice. He had a chestnut coat with elegantly brushed milky man, and a patch of white trailing down his face.

'Ah, Eros,' said Duckworth as though floating in a far off land. 'He is one of my most powerful horses, you know, miss.'

'I have been your horse for fifteen years,' said Eros. 'I know that I am.'

Duckworth chuckled. 'You're always so haughty, Eros,' he said.

Eros shook his head, his hair flapping here and there. 'Wouldn't you be proud too when you were once a war horse?'

'You were a war horse?' asked Alice curiously.

'Indeed,' he said. 'I was once the horse of a soldier in the Heart Army. But to my dismay they said I became too old to go into war anymore. Ha! Never for me! I'll never be old for anything!'

'He's a very confident and pompous stallion, miss,' whispered Duckworth to Alice. 'Do you have your eye on renting him?'

In fact, Alice certainly did. Eros reminded her of her father's favourite horse; a beautiful brown coated steed with a silver mane, and he was a rather confident creature, yet sometimes too proud for his own good. Eros could easily be the equivalent of that very steed. If truth be told, he could be the Wonderland replica.

When her decision was made, Alice nodded. 'I shall take him,' she said flatly, and with that she took out her purse and gave all the coins to Duckworth.

Eros whinnied, which was incredibly similar to a laugh. 'And what makes you think that I'd take _you_?'

'And why wouldn't you?' asked Alice. 'I'm an experienced rider.'

'Ha! We'll just have to see about that then, won't we?' and Eros smiled.

Once Duckworth placed all the coins in his wallet, he announced that Eros will be hers for a minimum of two days. Preparing the departure, Eros was arranged with a saddle, reins and pouches for provisions, and with all of this equipment attached to him he looked like a stallion ready for any endeavours upon the road.

Alice was also given free equipment, including a helmet and riding crop. It was now time to make a move to the Pool of Tears at last. Mounting the proud steed, Alice felt it strange to be upon the saddle of horse again, especially a large adult and not a pony instead due to her size when she was a child.

Eros glanced behind at the riding crop in Alice's hand. He nickered. 'If you at all think of whipping me with that atrocious tool you can be sure you'll be bucked off my back in a heartbeat.'

'O, don't worry, I won't use it,' she assured as she stroked his mane.

Duckworth, after he led the horse out of the stables had opened the gate ready for their departure. Before they left, Alice gave to him his ultimate present. It struck Alice as weird and discomfited once he began to cry, cradling his deck like a baby. Thankful to be away from the sight, Alice was ready for the long trek up to the Pool of Tears and Eros her new companion. What was waiting for her there, any why was it so important?


	5. A Second Soon Passed

**A/N: **It has been too long! Way too long! I am so sorry for such a delay. I finally finished school, but I've had rehearsals, exams, holidays... I haven't had much time, unfortunately. However, I present to you the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it after months of waiting. :)

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**A Second Soon Passed…**

There was no trek to Dareshire; the road coursed northward through the Imperial Province, the westernmost county of Wonderland, and nearest to the Heart Castle and Seraphina's prime domain. Here the countryside rolled like waves in the sea, sweeping the viridian fields with nature's elevating grace. The road meandered snakelike through the moors, coursing its journey through meadows of lavenders and lupins, dandelions and daisies, buttercups and linseeds. It was seldom seen as fall roamed the land, but the splendour and remnants of summer's beauty flaunted the last of her dying dominance.

The presence of summertime perished behind once Alice and Eros entered the forests, where autumn proudly boasted his grandeur: the undergrowth was dressed in ambers and browns, enriched with the crinkled leaves of mid-year's passing. Birches, oaks and aspens were abundant, sheltering below from the heavens as they turned to gray. A downpour was looming, and for Alice she hoped it would pass them by quickly.

Engrossed with nature, it towed her back in memory. Many forests surrounded her manor, and whenever she was given the opportunity she would wander beneath the canopies whatever the season, and play within the undergrowth, climbing trees, following the stream, sitting on the floor listening to the sighing of the trees. Of course, she could enjoy that here also, but the enchantment that one embraced as a child had diminished into times of yore; moments in her life that she shall never reclaim.

Eros sighed. 'It seems rain will be upon us, Alice,' he said miserably. 'I never did like the rain; it always muddles my mane.'

'You're a very proud horse, aren't you?' said Alice after eyes her finished in following a duo of sparrows flutter around the trees.

'I have my reasons to be,' he said smugly, 'if you were once the grandest of all horses in the army, being received the greatest care in the cleanest of stables, my! Who wouldn't?'

'_Once_,' said Alice recklessly.

The horse snorted. 'Bah! I am still a stallion able to go distances no other is willing, to stand in the front line about to charge into battle-,' he stopped abruptly, and then a cloud of gloom fell upon him, 'and now I'm just a second-hand mule living in a neurotic man's ranch with other loud-mouthed donkeys! Pah! Where did I go wrong?'

A morsel of pity subsided within Alice's heart towards the horse. She stroked his mane. 'What exactly did you do in the army, may I ask?'

'Hmm,' he thought hesitantly, 'I was the grandest of all the stallions. My name was renowned among every horse in Wonderland. I belonged to a man whom I believed would always be by my side through the wildest of storms and hardships that could be the death of others so weak. It saddens me to think that that turned into a misfortunate prospect.'

'Who did you belong to, Eros?' asked Alice.

'The Knave of Hearts, Alice,' he answered, 'a once loyal and valiant man with auburn hair and grey eyes, with armour splendid as the sun. He was my first rider, you know.'

Alice's brows furrowed and look of bewilderment crossed her face. 'Wait, are you saying that you once belonged to Ilosovic?'

'Yes!' gasped Eros. 'You know of him?'

'O, all too well, unfortunately,' hissed Alice, remembering how vile the Knave was towards her and her companions during their quest in Looking-glass Land, and how mercilessly he abused Humpty Dumpty and wounded the Gryphon fatally.

'Ilosovic Stayne is a man too big for his boots,' said Eros. 'I always wondered why he served that devilish wrench in the first place. It's such a ferocious act to severe heads from their bodies for pleasure whenever the tiniest problem erupts. The entire Heart Monarchy is not right in the head. Perhaps _they _should be the ones to be decapitated,' and with that the horse nickered with utmost disgust.

'Yes, I have heard that threat a lot, lately,' said Alice indifferently. 'So, what happened with you and the Knave, that's what I'd like to know?'

With such unfathomable grief, Eros sighed. 'I became "too old", apparently. My swiftness in the battlefield declined. I was insignificant compared to the more youthful and vigorous stallions that served in the militia. Another reason may have been that the Knave grew bored of me, like a child that lessens its attachment towards a toy. He "threw me away" like a plaything; like a tattered and antique model of some adolescent's pastime. By doing so he "traded" me with another young horse at Snowdrop Ranch, and there I remained for the rest of my prolonged days, enduring such suffering in solitude that being elderly hampers on your shattered dreams. It was not until earlier, Alice, when I was finally acknowledged by a human being; when I appeared much greater in stature beneath my body. I thank you ever so much, Alice, for releasing me from that stressful reformatory,' and with that he took a steady breath and fell into silence.

It was a thick hush that lingered upon them after the horse's speech, and Alice thought long and hard at his words, at how easily one can throw away or severe the connection between something that was once truly dear to you, only to supersede that with another form of the preceding favourite. It felt to some extent vaguely comparative, but with what Alice knew not.

She stroked his neck comfortingly. 'It must've been difficult to accept rejection, even if you did not come to accept it,' she said. 'But know, Eros, that there are those who would eagerly permit you into a new family – to a new rider. I for one, are hopefully the majority that would.'

Eros laughed hollowly. 'You are too kind, Alice, and that conceals truth by veiling them with false hope. I am not credulous to such words, for I have heard them too many times. There is no persuasion in uplifting my dreams anymore than the leaves grow on oak trees in winter. It is near impossible.'

Alice huffed in such a manner that resembled her mother when she would say the silliest of things. 'I believe that your trouble, Eros, is that you are awfully pessimistic. I would quote a saying that someone spoke to me a few years ago that completely changed my views on life, but if your cynicism has too much of a grasp on your outlook on life, then I deem that we have a problem, dear Eros.'

'We always have a problem, _dear _Alice,' answered Eros, 'and not all of them are so easily solved with a simple phrase.'

'Only to those who are too stubborn to modify their negative viewpoints, Eros,' retorted Alice, and both fell into an awkward silence.

The further northward they went the colder it seemed to turn. From the light enclosure of the thicketed woods and the vastness of whitewashed fields, the scenery took its conspicuous change when a dense silver haze began to swallow the path before them, and the rich green trees began to bend at the trunk and overhang over the road. The soil became damp and the abundance of forest ferns receded as plant-less loams covered the ground in a layer of dead leaves and twigs. Brown waters came into short view beside the pathway with moss and reeds floating steadily upon the still ponds. The ground became soggy as tawny water oozed out from beneath. The trees were leafless and dead as were in winter, but veils of stringy moss beetled from the lichen swathed branches. A morass was upon them as they examined the banks of the swamp waters, unmoving and opaque below clouds of iron shaded mist. Trees spouted like arms reaching out from the perilous waters. The air was thick; suffocating almost, like ghosts wrapping their hands around one's neck. Only a hazy orb of light shone upon the mist from above where the sun loomed. Not even she could penetrate the layers of mist upon the quagmires, and all remained quiet and dark.

The sound of birds or other forms of forest life had faded long before their coming here, and for a moment Alice thought she took a wrong turn. There was no safe passage through the swamps even upon the path. 'I don't think we went the right way, Eros,' she said as she gazed upon the ominous waters beneath them, as though some creature was to suddenly leap up to attack them.

'No, this was the right way,' he replied. 'We are here, Alice.'

'Here where?' she asked.

'At the Pool of Tears,' he said. 'We are here.'

'What?' she exclaimed doubtfully. '_This _is the Pool of Tears? No, this can't be the right place. Perhaps if we find a turning-,'

'Listen to me, Alice, this _is _the Pool of Tears, or the Swamp of Tears as it is now commonly known as.'

'But…' her voice trailed off into the mists. A weight of dismay pushed down onto her expectations. She had hoped the Pool of Tears would be as beautiful in comparison to the Lake of Purity: clear waters, mountains looming in the horizon, forests bordering the pools with a few waterfalls near the elevated edges. That image shattered before her. It was terribly similar to what Wonderland looked like three years ago, and that recollection never left her mind.

She sighed. 'I was expecting something grander.'

'Don't we all?' said Eros. 'So, you need to find a Waterfall, is that right?'

'Will it actually be a Waterfall or just an outpouring of mud?'

'Well, once we find it then we'll know.' Eros bowed his head and grimaced at the mires beneath his hooves. He let out a sound of revulsion. 'Although I must say I have no desire to go trudging through marshes. I believe I shall remain on dry land, Alice.'

'So you're not coming with me?' she said.

'I don't particularly fancy it,' he replied bluntly, and he hobbled away from the edges of the murky waters.

Alice let out a sharp sigh as she jumped off the horse. 'I don't fancy it either, Eros,' she said artlessly as her shoes were submerged into the sludge.

'I must say it'll be a shame for that pretty yellow dress to get dirtied,' said the stallion. 'Dear, o dear.'

'O, hush, you pompous mule,' she snapped. The horse looked outraged, harrumphed and turned his head away from her as she trudged through the mud.

The fog was growing thick, and Alice was having trouble seeing where the edge of dry land ended and where the marshes roamed. The humidity hung on the mist heavily; it felt uncomfortable traipsing around with damp clothes drooping off the skin, and her hair dangled split, knotted and moist. It was a lovely surprise to hear the twittering of birds again albeit they did not sound very convivial, and unquestionably daunting, almost similar to the caws of crows.

Minutes were rolling along, and Alice had still not found any sign of a waterfall. Did it dry up? Or was it not actually a waterfall, just some other thing with an irrelevant name? Or did it even exist to begin with? She could be charging head first into a trap for all she knew. Lysandra's mannerisms were odd, and she did not seem like a person to lay trust upon, or to believe at any rate. However, Alice's curiosity always got the better of her; it was a flaw she needed to work upon, but as long as it let her wander to other edges of the world and explore uncharted places, then she would never say no.

Drifting blindly from swamp to swamp, Alice's will to continue was beginning to expire. Out here in a soundless and lifeless world, it seemed even the forest's resolution to uphold control upon these mires ran out long ago. It was when Alice decided to take one last and fruitless mosey when she heard the faintest sound of the cascading of liquid. Her heart leapt; could it be the Waterfall? Swiftly (and maladroitly) she struggled towards the source, and gazing through the blanket of haze she managed to see the slightest downward movement and quick glimmers.

'About time,' she grumbled to herself as she trudged through a knee-high mire, causing Alice to lift up her mud-spattered dress in the process. Finally reaching the small island overrun with fungi, Alice made her way out of the swamp and found herself standing next to a small outpouring of clear water. The water was surging from inside a rock, and when Alice looked up and behind she saw that it was a rather large cliff covered in moss and ivy. The cliff face was jagged, and it seemed moderately shaped in such a way that it looked as though nature had no part in its creation. Whatever it was, Alice was glad to finally escape the swamps.

'Ah, you made it!' A voice bounced off the cliff, and quickly Alice turned her heard here and there until she found a cloaked girl standing on the other side of the Waterfall. 'You got 'ere, alrigh' then?' asked Lysandra as she scanned Alice's once yellow dress.

Alice sighed irritably. 'You never told me that the Pool of Tears was a swamp.'

'Yeah,' she said at length as she rubbed the back of her neck. 'I was gonna tell you, but I was in an 'urry. Come! Follow me.'

'I will once you tell me why I am here, seeing as you have enough time,' demanded a frustrated Alice, rubbing her grubby hands on the hem of her dress.

Lysandra stared, until she finally opened her mouth. 'Alrigh'… somebody wanted to see you, as you know already. They're inside, and they've been wanting to see you for a long time. I was only asked to fetch you. Now, please, follow me.'

Believing that Alice would not be able to squeeze any more information from her, she eventually followed her escort through the drier parts of the swamp. They both found the edge of the cliff and trailed around it, and found themselves on the other end. Alice frowned: an odd shape for a cliff, or was it just a very large boulder? Walking further on the other side, Lysandra made a firm halt and then turned to face Alice.

'We're 'ere,' she said.

'We're where?' asked a confused Alice.

With that, Lysandra trotted towards the boulder-cliff and brushed aside the draping ivy to reveal a frail timber door. It then came to Alice in thinking that this was definitely not a boulder, but a dwelling made from stone; either that or someone managed to hew into the stone and build a rather convincing domicile.

Once the door creaked open, a pink blur darted out from within and raced off into the mist, leaving behind it echoing squeals. Lysandra huffed. 'O, blast it! 'E's gotten away again! Go inside, Alice, and I'll meet up with you in a bit,' and there she ran off into the mist, yelling, 'Pepper! Pepper; get back 'ere! Pepper!'

Clatters and crashes reverberated from behind the door. Yells and grunts joined in with the clamour. A thick smoke fumed through the small opening, and upon it hung a stench of eye-watering peppers and spices. Braving to glimpse inside despite the currently dense vapour, Alice pushed open the door and entered.

Her eyes were irrigating; searing from reeking odours that polluted the room. Swatting away the wisps of smoke from her sight, she made out the hazy figures of two people: one very large, and the other slim. It appeared that the larger one wore a gigantic hat, for it was twice the size of their body. The other was rushing around faster than the smoke, causing rattles and collisions wherever they went.

Coughing badly, Alice struggled to find her voice. 'Excuse – excuse me,' a great cloud of smoke drifted into her mouth, and she choked as it smoldered her throat.

The noise of her violent coughs caught the attention of the two figures, and the larger one swiveled their head like a meerkat, and immediately she made her way towards her. 'Did you even knock?' said the hoarse voice of what Alice deemed to be a woman, notwithstanding how brutish and unfriendly she sounded.

After whisking away the tears from her eyes, and recovering after her unpleasant gasping for breath, she answered. 'I'm sorry, I didn't, no. Um, Lysandra told me to go straight in.'

'Rude, rude, child,' snapped the woman, 'such discourtesy.'

'I am truly sorry, ma'am,' she said timorously.

'Hmm,' groaned the woman, and she sat down.

Once the smoke began to fade, Alice could manage to perceive her surroundings. She was in a small, rather quaint kitchen. Many pots and pans lay scattered on the floor, including the debris of what Alice deemed the cause of the crashes. A round, wooden table was placed near the middle of the kitchen, and here was where the larger woman was situated. The large bulk on top of her head was visible, and it came as a shock to Alice when she discovered that half of that bulk was in fact the woman's head! It was as large as a rhino's, and just as wrinkled too. Her nose took up a great portion of her face, and her eyes were beady and obstructed by bushy eyebrows and saggy skin. Her face reminded Alice of a bulldog; droopy features constricted into a perpetually sorrowed expression. The other half of the bulk was an enormous red and white headdress that almost reached the ceiling. The lanky figure was a cook, deeming by her hectic motions and preparing all kinds of kitchen apparatus. Her face was snootier; her nose upright and wrinkled as though she smelt something unpleasant. She took absolutely no notice of Alice.

The larger woman gave a rather unpleasant look at Alice. 'Your name?' she said curtly.

'O, um, Alice, ma'am,' she answered quietly, feeling uncomfortable by the woman's glare and bedraggled due to her dirtied dress and matted hair, both of which used to be yellow.

The woman's glare ceased, and her bulldog face lifted into a very unconvincing smile. 'Ah, yes, of course,' she said a little less brusquely. 'I did summon you. However, I thought you would be much politer than I expected.'

A squealing rang near the door, and looking back Lysandra had returned with an agitated piglet cradled in her arms. ''Ello, auntie, I managed to get Pepper back. 'E ran off again.'

'Disobedient thing!' snapped the woman to the piglet, and she violently snatched it from Lysandra's arms. 'Too much pepper in the soup!' she yelled at the cook, and the cook gave a sudden reaction and threw a pepper shaker over her shoulder, barely missing Alice's head by an inch.

'I'll open a window,' said Lysandra, and she made her way over to a small shutter and opened it, allowing the rest of the smoke to drift out into the fresh air.

'Don't leave it open for long,' said the woman, cradling the piglet in her arms. It was a peculiar scene for someone to nurse an animal like a toddler, and Alice was almost going to ask why, until a sharp gasp ceased her doing so: the piglet suddenly transformed into a baby! _Curious, _thought a fairly astounded Alice.

Finally, Lysandra sighed. 'Aunt, I did what you wanted me to do.'

'I can see,' said the woman, rocking the baby back and forth.

'May someone please explain to me _why _I am here?' asked Alice in a refined tone lest she gets snapped at by the woman again.

The woman nodded. 'Yes, I believe that would be a good idea,' and with that she tossed the baby at Lysandra - who caught it at the last minute – and stood up. She cleared her throat. 'I am Edith, formerly known as the Duchess. That was before my village was destroyed. Duchess no longer, yes, but Edith still, indeed.'

Alice frowned. 'Wait, you were the Duchess of a village once?'

'More than once: many times, child!' said the Duchess.

'Was that village Dareshire, may I ask?'

'Yes,' she answered, and with a gloomy shadow upon her face she made her way over towards a wall, where an awfully dirty cloth was draped. 'My family ruled that village for generations. We were independent; we cared nothing for the Heart Monarchy. Pfft! It was no secret that I was close friends with the Queen of Hearts at one time. After the rebellion, things fell to ruin. My village burnt to cinders, and my people massacred, and not to mention my dear sister, who selflessly took my place so that I could escape unscathed with the last of us.'

'You mean that the Duchess that was executed in Dareshire was not the real one?' asked Alice, her curiosity growing.

'Not at all. The Heart Monarchy and Army believed it was. Everyone else did not. I made refuge out here in this old stone fort before the Pool of Tears turned into a quagmire. That seems like an eternity ago. Here, Alice, is my Family Tree:'

Alice walked over towards the dirty cloth, only realizing that it was not dirty at all: it was a tapestry, and in the centre was a tree spouting many branches, and around them names were written. Many were smudged and illegible, but the ones near the bottom were well enough to be made out:

_Susanna Cortus - - Edith Cortus - - Regu**s Cortus_

_|| - - - - - - - Pepper Cortus - - - - - - - - ||_

_Mor**h Cortus - - - - - - - - - - - - - - To**as Co**us_

_V - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - V_

_Tri*tan Gard**r - - - - - - - - - - - - - - R*g** Ho**rd_

_|| - - - - - - - - - - - v - - - - - - - - - - - - ||_

_Lysandra Ro*mun* - - - - - - - - - - - L***a** **r**s_

'We have quite a fascinating history,' said the Duchess. 'If it were not for my brother's recklessness then Dareshire would still be standing.'

'I doubt that, Aunt,' said Lysandra, 'Seraphina still would 'ave attacked us anyway, like she did to Looking-glass Land last year.'

'True, Lysandra, true.'

A knot was twisted deep inside Alice's stomach, and her heart fell like a stone. _Cortus. _It was no mystery as to where she heard that name before. Most of the names were indecipherable, but in the bottom right corner she guessed whose blotched name belonged to. Too well, if it were true, then these people were related to him.

'Susanna, my sister, was the one who died at Dareshire,' said the Duchess. 'My brother got executed by the Monarchy after his rebellion.'

'So did my cousins,' said a crestfallen Lysandra. 'Why would they do that? Slaughter an entire village? Heartless…'

'No wonder where that rebellion's name came from, then,' said the Duchess, and cradled again the baby in her arms, who softly fell asleep.

Once Alice was finished examining the board, she stiffly turned to see the others, her face paler than the mist outside. 'Your family name is Cortus?' she said unsteadily. She already knew the answer, but she was hungry for more information.

'Yes, all the way back to when the Two Realms existed, actually,' said the Duchess lightly. 'That name is an ill omen of late upon Wonderland. We caused so much commotion a hundred years ago therefore we were shunned. We remained in hiding for the rest of our days.'

'My mum and dad died during the Dareshire battle,' whispered Lysandra, almost inaudible. 'I was only a kid back then.'

'You still are,' said the Duchess firmly.

'Barely, I'm almost twenty,' she retorted.

'Lysandra, you _won't _be turning twenty anytime soon and you know it.' The Duchess' tone was so stern it woke the baby, who began to cry at once. She shook him viciously to cease his screams. Surprisingly, it worked.

Alice knew not what to say, apart from one. 'So why exactly have you sent me here? It's not to admire your ancestry is it?'

'No, of course not,' said the Duchess. 'Lysandra, explain.'

She nodded, and inhaling heavily, she began. 'Do you know anythin' about the Guardians, Alice?'

She thought for a moment. Nothing came to mind. 'No, I'm sorry.'

'What about Receivers and Defenders?' she asked again.

That recalled a memory, when she saw the title of a book that bore that name. 'Yes, I remember the names, but I don't know what they are.'

'What about Heart, Mind and Soul?'

This befuddled Alice even more. She shook her head again.

The Duchess grumbled beneath her breath. 'Discourteous _and_ ignorant…'

'Well, this migh' take some explaining then,' she paused quickly, and then resumed, 'You see there is a war goin' on between these Defenders and Receivers. The Defenders are brutish people, and they're tryin' to take our freedom from us – Wonderland and Looking-glass Land. The Heartless stood up against them, but they won over them,' she sighed sadly, 'we need your help to go and find the Head of the Psyche, and ask him for our liberation.'

'Who's the Head of the Psyche?' asked Alice, her mind whirling in bewilderment.

'Alistair Ludwidge Secundo,' answered the Duchess, her voice held searing hatred.

'And where could I find him?'

'Down in the bottom edges of Wonderland, called the Palace… righ'?' Lysandra turned to the Duchess, and she nodded. 'Yes, the Palace, it's called. It's, um, on the corner of Wonderland, very close to Wonder's Edge. You can't miss it.'

'Knowing my luck, I will,' said Alice. 'So all I have to do is find this person and ask for Wonderland's freedom?'

'That's exactly it,' said Lysandra, making a large smile.

Alice's brows furrowed. 'Why me, exactly? Why does it have to be me?'

'Because you gained authority over the Heart Monarchy before,' said the Duchess, 'you were queen. That was what everyone has been saying of late. You will possibly manage to persuade him. For Wonderland's sake, we need our freedom before we are suppressed by the Guardian's sadistic and inequitable regime.'

'It's rather curious how I've never heard this before,' said Alice firmly and suspiciously. 'If there was an organization trying to gain rule over Wonderland then surely that would be large news to everyone?'

'You would think that, wouldn't you?' said the Duchess darkly. 'It is only early; not until they make a move will the news spread across the Two Realms. Now, Alice: I will give you a map to the Palace and there you can find Alistair. It will be a long journey, but if you successfully manage to end their rule, then all is well, and you will have saved Wonderland once again.'

It pestered Alice; why was it always her to save the world? She was no hero, she knew. Mostly it was only luck that led her to victory, and both of those concerned an exceedingly ambitious villain to overcome. Matters like these could only make things worse, for if she failed, then what would happen? Would Wonderland return to its wasteland like before? Would the Monarchy fight again like last year? There was too little information to go upon. She knew nothing about these Guardians; for all she knew they could be extraordinarily influential people. They would not listen to someone like her. However, she did falter Seraphina's warfare before, and she is a powerful individual herself. Perhaps there could be a chance albeit knowing very little of the Guardian's affairs. But should she place trust in people with the surname Cortus? After what Leo did, this could only mean new and difficult dilemmas will ignite…

'Well? Will you do it, Alice?' the Duchess looked up at her with beady eyes, waiting for an answer, and hoping for only one.

Alice's decision wavered. She was not sure. For once she desired peace, living snugly under the March Hare's roof, standing beside the Hatter and the others in serenity and mirth. She did not want to know what would happen to her if she was to say no, however. The Duchess was a stern woman, and she could fling that baby straight at her in rage if she refused this assignment. Therefore, despite Alice's impassiveness to the task, she accepted.

The Duchess beamed. 'Marvelous!' and she threw the baby straight at the cook, who caught it effortlessly. 'Let me give you a map and we can head off.'

'Must I do this straight away, however?' asked Alice, yearning to return to the Mad Hatter and at least have a quick respite.

The Duchess stammered. 'Well, I suppose not, but you must do it as soon as possible. Do not leave it for the last minute, lest terrible things happen.' With that she found a small tattered map lying around in the debris, and with a pen lying on the table, she circled around the area in the bottom left of the map. When she was finished, she handed it to Alice. 'Ride here to the Palace. There you will find the Head of the Psyche. Remember: ask for Wonderland's liberation. We need this Alice, more than anything we yearn for it!'

Hesitantly, Alice took the map from the Duchess' pudgy fingers, and folded it so it fit the palm of her hand. When she finished, she made a small and emotionless smile.

'Good girl,' said a delighted Duchess, and she went over to the cook to obtain the piglet from her arms.

* * *

**A/N: **Darn FF! It was rather difficult in making that Family Tree (if you can even call it that). The next chapter will be uploaded... I don't know. Sometime, probably not so soon though.


	6. Diminished of a Dream

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**Diminished of a Dream**

'So are you gonna do it, now? Go to the Palace? When you plannin' on goin' en'? Alice? Alice!'

'I don't know, Lysandra,' snapped Alice once she left the stone dwelling with Lysandra prattling at her heels. 'I need to return to the Hare's house; it's almost dark and I wish to find my horse and leave this place as soon as I can.'

'You're not gonna ignore it, are you?' said Lysandra, still persisting in asking enquiries. Alice's patience was wearing thin.

'Please, Lysandra, of course I'm not going to ignore it,' she assured, although hesitantly, and frankly if she could she would neglect it in a heartbeat. _That would not be the wisest idea_, she sadly thought, however. 'I need to return home, and once I'm able, I'll see to this Alistair.'

'When'll you be able, Alice?' Lysandra badgered on again.

'I don't know,' she replied truthfully. 'I won't leave it for long. I promise, okay?'

Lysandra smiled. 'All righ', good. I 'ope you do well; I don't wanna keep livin' in this bog any longer.'

Alice could relate to that comment; the bog was a very dismal place full of twisted flora, murky waters and little wind. If she ever had to live here she would rather her chances in Seraphina's dungeons. They felt less ominous, and what caused that impression it was uncertain, but there was something about the swamp that spoke of sorrows lost in time, a misery bleaker than anything she ever felt before.

Lysandra escorted her through the safer paths of the swamp back to the road, where Eros greeted her… pleasantly enough. 'O, so she returns,' said the stallion disdainfully, shaking his head to avert the hair from his eyes. 'You know, I was going to turn and leave you here –,'

'Then why didn't you?' asked Alice simply.

'Well, I have my reasons.' He veered his gaze from her.

'A very "charmin'" 'orse, you 'ave, Alice,' said Lysandra with strong hint of sarcasm upon her lips. 'Bet you'll 'ave a joyful journey 'ome.'

'I will do, thank you,' said Alice. She mounted Eros and latched onto his reins, swerving him to face the way out. To think that she will be free from this wretched place lifted up her spirits. 'I will keep in touch with you, Lysandra.'

'Usin' what method?' she said.

Method? There was only one method, she thought, and that was by letters. Unless there was some other discreet system the adolescent had in mind. 'What do you recommend?' asked Alice.

'The Duchess 'as a coop of birds she uses now an' then to send messages to… _other _friends. We could use them. They're carrier pigeons, very 'andy.'

'Very well, that's a fine method.' She clutched tight on the reins, ready to make her leave. 'You send the first message, then, and make sure it's judicious.'

She didn't think Lysandra understood what the word meant, but she nodded anyway. 'I will do,' she said, 'see you soon, Alice, an' good luck.'

At the last word Alice fluttered the reins, and the stallion was off at the beat of a wing. It seemed quicker to leave than to enter, and before she knew it they were already out from under roof of the forest and beneath a canopy of ash grey sky. A light shower was a welcome sight, and with wind and rain tickling her face it was a sensation she welcomed compared to the dense air of the quagmire. The sun was buried in the rainclouds, and even though it was still light she could not quite estimate the time. Was it still afternoon? It was well past midday, she knew that, but if it was creeping to twilight already then she would be back home before late evening, she hoped… but then it hit her.

'So why must these messages be judicious, Alice?' asked Eros as they slowed to a trot on a levelled country road. 'Is there someone that mustn't know of your little meeting? Is it illegal?'

'No,' she said, 'at least I don't think so.' She did not know whether the Cortus' intentions were lawful, but judging by the surname and of one who had borne it, it wasn't much of a guess.

'You sound deeply uncertain,' said Eros. 'What illicit deeds are you and this "Lysandra" up to? Is it a plot? Is it a _murdering _plot?'

'O, please.' She rolled her eyes. 'No, it's not a murdering plot or any form of conspiracy. In fact, why are you even asking? It doesn't concern you.'

The stallion made a firm halt in his tracks. 'Doesn't it, now? The poor hauler, who has carried you for goodness how many miles with aching legs and a sore back, _isn't _allowed to know the doings of a little girl he happens to be carrying on his back? Am I to believe that I've travelled so far without even a little inclusion into one of your "secret" happenings?'

'Yes,' she said flatly.

'It is wonderful to know where I stand, and quite frankly, I'm content with standing right here until nightfall.'

Alice huffed. 'Stop being a stubborn mule,' she snapped, 'and I will tell you, if that pleases you?'

Eros snorted. 'It would,' and he began to trot once again.

'I had to meet someone who chose me specifically to carry out a certain task,' Alice said as they trekked the snaking roads, 'and it had something to do with these people called Guardians -,'

'Guardians?' exclaimed Eros suddenly. 'Why would you want to see to them?'

'Who said I was seeing to them?' asked Alice.

'Well, it was obvious, wasn't it?' said Eros. 'You were sent to see the Guardians. Let me guess: you must see to the Head of the Psyche?'

'You know about him?'

'O, I know about him,' replied Eros darkly, 'and what the tales say. However, these legends are split to favour either the Guardians themselves to see them in a good light, or those who oppose them to see them as the tyrants many claim them to be.'

Tyrants… was everyone in the land some sort of despotic leader? 'Why are they claimed to be tyrants?' asked Alice, curiosity ringing in her voice. 'What have they done that is unjust?' But then she remembered Lysandra's words: _"They're brutish people, and they're tryin' to take our freedom from us – Wonderland and Looking-glass Land…"_

'Well, you can ask the ancient Heartless and I'm sure they'd be happy to answer,' said Eros simply.

'You know of the Heartless?' asked Alice. Where did the horse gather all this information from?

'Alice, _everyone _knows of the Heartless, or the "Revivers" as they love to call themselves nowadays. They're just the shadow of a former glory, though. They're nothing anymore, and pose little threat to the Defenders and Receivers, or the Guardians.'

'… Where do you hear all this?' said Alice, curiosity now reaching its peak.

The stallion sniggered. 'You must remember who my last owner used to be,' he said, 'and what deeds we carried out together…'

The rain had ended by the time they reached Chesbury, and the town was quiet. The lampposts were lit, illuminating tiny stretches of darkening shadows, and the cobbled pavements canalled with puddles. It was always such a silent village; it recalled the times when Alice was home in England. It was such a distant memory. It was here Alice had to share her farewell with the stallion, which, to her surprise, seemed to be hesitant to leave.

'I never liked it in the stables,' said the horse, shaking his head at the sight of the closed barn. 'Please, I deserve something better than this. Persuade Duckworth to let me go.'

'I don't have any more cards,' she said once she opened the wooden gate into the farmstead. 'Come on, it'll be all right -,'

'That's easy for you to say,' snapped Eros. He flung his head to and fro to release the firm grip Alice had on his reins. 'You don't have to spend your life in manure-filled, reeking prison.'

'It's not a prison, Eros,' said Alice calmly as she tried to steady the horse. 'I can't afford to keep you, if that's what you're implying.'

He snorted. 'Live with you?' he said as though it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. '… Can I?'

'No,' and that was her final answer. She could not afford to shelter the stallion, and the Hare most likely would not allow a horse to trample his garden into ruin. And she defiantly remembered the Dormouse's aversion for the creatures.

'Please?' he pleaded, 'I beg of you to free me from this mind-numbing place!' His head-flinging was becoming fiercer, and Alice's hands were burning from the friction. He just wouldn't stop.

'Eros! Stop!' she yelled. 'Okay, okay, I'll take you in!'

At once he stopped, and he made a large, triumphant grin. 'Brilliant,' he said quietly. 'You are such a benevolent creature, Alice.'

'We'll see for how long,' said Alice bitterly, and she let go of his reins. Her hands were sore and red; it hurt to clench. She had no idea how she was to pay for the horse. Hiring was over; strictly speaking he had to return, although he was more stubborn than the most unyielding of mules. He would not return, so what was she to do?

'I _will_ behave myself,' he said. 'Also I will keep out of the way of you and your friends.'

'Well, that certainly makes things more reassuring,' said Alice sarcastically, and with that she opened the gate and made her way up the pale pathway to the door. She knocked, waited, but there was no reply. Again she rapped on the door, pressing her ear against it to hear the faintest sounds come from within, but nothing stirred behind the wood. One last time she knocked, louder and harder than the last, but still there was no answer.

'He must be out,' she said. However, it made things more difficult for her. If she was not to pay for horse, and allow him to trot by her side, would that be stealing?

'I take it he is not in, then,' said Eros when she returned to him.

'There is no sound from within,' said Alice.

'Oh, what a shame. Can we leave now? I am quite certain he will not miss me, and all the better: I no longer have to live in that filthy sty!'

'I don't think so,' said Alice firmly. 'I still need to pay for you -,'

'But you do not have anything worth a bargain,' said Eros with a smug smile.

Alice sighed. 'Fine!' she said. 'He didn't know when I was to return, so for now, until _he _returns from wherever, you're coming with me, for the time being.'

Eros bowed his head. The mirth he felt at that moment was grand. 'Such a benevolent lady!' he cried joyfully. 'You are a wondrous person, dear Alice. I will make it worth your while, having me in your custody. I am not just any stallion, you know. I am a war stallion, and I am the best you will ever meet.'

'Yes, yes,' said Alice wearily, 'I don't want to hear it. For _now, _Eros, heed me! Only for _now _and now alone, you are under my keeping.'

'I understand perfectly,' he said. 'Come! Let us go! I wish to see my new home.'

The journey back to the March Hare's home was far shorter than the leaving; within a quarter of an hour she had returned. It was black as pitch outside in the garden, but the fires inside were warm and welcoming, but how welcoming would it remain? She had left them worried and unaware and her merely strutting inside and acting as though she had never left for an entire day would never work. She had to explain, or form up some conceivable story to cast their worries aside. It was the Hatter she feared more. He wouldn't yield to her lies so swiftly like the others, who are far easier to deceive. Hatter knew, and he could sense dishonesty behind her shuttered eyes. He would know, either now or later, he would know.

'Hmm, it seemed grander inside my head,' said Eros as he scanned the area. 'I was expecting something more majestic for a woman of your stature.'

'I don't desire riches, Eros,' she said. 'This is home, and this is all I could ask for. Just because you were raised inside the stables of the Heart Castle that doesn't mean everywhere else would be manor teeming with a hundred servants and groomers.'

'That's a shame,' he said, and then he said no more.

She took hold of his reins and passed into the unkempt gardens of the March Hare. The table was emptied, as she could see, and the rainfall glossed the surface. She could hear voices inside, and they did not sound so joyous. They sounded solemn, heavy with concern, and that did not lift her spirits up at all.

'Stay here,' she said as she let go of his reins. 'I need to sort a few things out.'

'Do be quick,' said Eros, 'it is cold out here, and it will get colder by midnight.'

She hovered towards the door - a lopsided and frayed thing of ash – and halted. She mustered her courage with one large breath, and steadily her hand crept to the knob, and as quickly as taking off a plaster, she turned it and walked inside.

'What the – Alice?' came the Dormouse's tiny voice from the dinner table. He was licking the scraps of food from off one of the plates until his gaze veered to the stranger through the door. 'Where have you been? We've been worried sick!'

'I know,' Alice said, and guilt was thick on her voice.

'Oh, so you _did_ know we'd be fretting?' He was not at all pleased, but the response was not as dire as she was expecting it to be. 'Tarrant and Thackery have been looking for you all day! They went to Chesbury and you weren't there. Then they went all the way to the Lake of Purity but, lo and behold! You weren't there either. So where were you?'

Hesitantly she crept closer to the table and her voice fell to a whisper. 'Where is the Hatter?'

'Excuse me, but I asked the first question,' replied the Dormouse with a scowl on his tawny face. 'But, if you must know, he's not here. Neither is Thackery. They're still out searching for you.'

That did not help soothe the guilt prodding her heart. 'They are? Oh dear.' She fell silent for a second, and then she spoke again. 'Can you keep a secret, Mally?'

The Dormouse gave her a sidelong look. 'A secret? What secret?'

She crept closer until at last her mouth was an inch before his large ear. 'I went on an errand up at the Pool of Tears.'

'The Pool of Tears?' said the Dormouse. 'Why did you go there?'

'An errand.'

'What errand?'

'I cannot say,' she replied, 'unless you are trustful enough to keep it quiet?'

He rubbed the bottom of his chin, thinking deeply. He shot another sidelong glance at Alice. 'I believe I am,' he said. 'I will not say a word, not even a whisper.'

There she explained all her travels that day, from the riddle-loving fox to the card-collecting Duckworth, from the encounters with Eros to the final meeting with Lysandra and the Duchess, and the favour they had asked her to carry out. When she was finished, the Dormouse was... not exactly lost for words.

'No! No! No!' he screeched. 'You mingled with the Heartless?'

'You know of the Heartless?' she said, surprised by his sudden reaction.

'_Everyone _knows of the Heartless, Alice! That is ill news. Please, for goodness sake, _don't _do what they asked of you, because this can only mean trouble, and that'll be the same with the horse outside too. I want him gone! You know I don't like the beasts.'

'He will only be here for a short while until his master returns,' she Alice.

'Fine!' he said. 'But don't do their deed, Alice. The Guardians are not to be reckoned with, and siding with the Heartless will cause great uproar here in Wonderland. Please, please, _please _don't go to the Palace.'

'Why are you acting like this, Mally?' asked Alice. This was not making things easier for her.

He gave a look of outrage. 'Why? _Why? _Because! That's why! Alice, the Heartless caused mayhem a hundred years ago, and with their little descendants prowling around this can only be bad. The Guardians will purge Wonderland of them!'

'_Who_ are these Guardians?' she said. 'You seem to know much. Just tell me a good reason why I shouldn't do what it was they asked of me.'

Before the Dormouse could open his mouth to speak, the front door creaked open. Inside entered the bedraggled duo, and they did not look at all pleased, and when they caught sight of Alice, it increased tenfold direly. _This was as I feared, _thought Alice nervously, and she awaited their anger.

'WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?' The March Hare's bellows shook the entire house. 'We've been roaming around in the wind and rain searching for you! You'd better have good reason for this!'

Alice took a deep breath. 'I was out roaming the land,' she said with all her courage. She would not display her guilt like a museum artefact for all to see.

'Roaming the land?' said the Hatter, hanging his damp coat up on the hanger. His voice did not seem to hold much fury; it sounded more like disappointment, which was even worse. 'Is that what the horse is for?'

'I want that horse gone!' cried the Hare. 'It's already trampled my tulips!'

'He is only staying for a short while,' said Alice. 'His master is not at home.'

'Why did you even have a horse?' asked the Hatter.

'For roaming,' she answered.

'For roaming?' retorted the Hare. 'For roaming where exactly?'

Alice paused suddenly, but after a quick second she replied. 'Why, to explore this wondrous world, of course!' she said. 'Why else would I hire a horse?'

The hare looked at her with questioning eyes, and they seemed to decline in their enquiries, and the hare fell silent. The Hatter, on the other hand, gazed at her with eyes even more curious and deeply scrutinizing. It made Alice feel uncomfortable. _He'll know, soon enough…_

She skipped supper that night, for some reason she wasn't hungry. Eros was permitted to sleep beneath the oak tree at the end of the back garden, beside the outhouse – not that he was thrilled to rest there in particular, he didn't argue. Alice promised that he would be returned at first light on the morrow. That was a promise she wasn't sure to keep. _He doesn't want to return, but, he must. _As pompous as the former war stallion was, she had grown fond of him, and not to mention she was deeply grateful for him hauling her along such a lengthy distance. _If I had the coin, I could purchase him, _she thought as she lay in bed that night, looking up at the thatched ceiling. _He just wants to be free. I may as well do him a favour._

. . .

'Time waits for no one, Alice. Do not fail to keep up; do not waste those precious seconds.'

'I've had just about enough of you and your nonsensical drivel. If you're not going to assist me why even bother showing up?'

'I have been assisting you all this time. Thank you for noticing.'

The room was always dark, always murky. No doors, one window, and a rocking horse that swayed to and fro in still air. And always that voice. That unhelpful voice. Who _was _he? 'Then aid me in a way I can understand,' said Alice, leaning on the windowsill, staring up at motionless full moon. 'Cease these riddles, this nonsense entirely, and tell me straight what I must do.'

The voice sighed, and his breath filled the room like a draught. 'That is not why I am here, Alice,' he said. ''Only _you _can help yourself. Now, think, my dear, what is the best choice to answer for that question? Hearts or Minds: which suits you better?'

Alice frowned up at the white face of the moon. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

'It is a simple question, Alice. Hearts or Minds? Do you think with feeling or reason?'

It wouldn't turn out to be a simple answer, would it? 'I think with whatever matters at the time.'

The voice snorted. 'Of course you do.'

She turned, eyes narrowed in a scowl. 'Then what is your answer, hmm?' Her tone rose to a shout. 'What is it you want me to do, for goodness sake! You say you're assisting me but lately all I seem to be getting are pointless questions which have nothing to do with the subject matter. Who are you? What do you want from me! I demand you tell me who you are at once!'

The walls moaned and creaked as though the entire room was alive and breathing. On the floor the moonlight's ray was swallowed whole. Behind, the moon was wrapped in clouds. All that was heard was the incessant groaning of the walls, and the breath that escaped her lips. _I shouldn't have yelled, _she thought. _I shouldn't have._

'I'm sorry,' she said. She wasn't, but the unexpected change of the room made her uneasy. 'I will listen to you and answer your questions, I promise.' She was making too many promises she wasn't sure to keep. 'Please can you speak to me?'

Still the room kept its recent change. It was just the deep darkness and moaning of the walls, and her heart beating against her chest. _Please, do something, just stop this now. _

For a moment Alice thought her eyes to be playing tricks, for before her in the dark came an orb of pale blue, hovering like a lantern in a mild breeze. It couldn't have been more than seven feet away, yet it looked further, as though it were down the end of a long hallway. That or it was small to begin with. It made her feel warm, strangely enough, and calm. With her right hand she reached out... and caught a fistful of air. It was further away. She edged forward, reached out again, and caught nothing. More steps forward received the same results as the last. The orb remained there, small and faint, and unreachable.

'What -,'

_CRACK._

Her breath caught her in throat, and for a second she feared her heart had broken through her ribs. _What was that? _There was still darkness, still an orb. That warm feeling was gone, now it was cold. She forced herself to shuffle forward, baby steps at a time, her arms outstretched to lead her way. Only a few paces straight and her fingers brushed against something harsh. Snatching her right hand away, she reached with the left, and cautiously went for another feel. It was jagged, that was until she touched the edge where it swiftly turned smooth. _Wood. _With a push of it, it started to sway, every second returning to meet her hands with a wall of razors.

_Creak... creak... creak... _to and fro, the pace of a heartbeat. At the pace of a clock... _Tick-tock, tick-tock..._

'Time waits for no one, Alice.' _The voice. _'He waits for no one...'

'Good morning, Alice. I trust you slept well?'

_Slept well... _she still heard the creaking of the rocking horse echo in her mind. 'I slept reasonably well,' she brought herself to say as she sat herself down onto the armchair. The Hare and the Hatter were outside trimming the hedges; it was only her, the Dormouse, and the eerie thoughts from last night's dream.

'Reasonably well?' The Dormouse sat upon the table, stirring his tea whilst giving Alice a sidelong stare. 'What has been troubling you?

'Nothing,' said Alice. Her voice was thin.

The Dormouse snorted. 'Very well, then,' he said, and he took a sip of tea.

Mist hung on the air outside, like some wraithlike mass. It was like a recollection of the past, seeing such a thing. It didn't help Alice's thoughts. Now more questions sprung up, more decisions. _I am to go to the Palace. Yet, how can I travel there secretly? _But maybe she didn't need to do so. Perhaps it had been far too long for her to be keeping secrets anymore. She couldn't keep lying to the Hatter. She knew she couldn't. Yet how was she to tell him so suddenly things that occurred what seemed like a decade ago? How was she to tell him about the Palace, about the Guardians and the Heartless? Mally knew, and he kept it hushed. But with Alice wandering off clandestinely to and fro, rendezvousing with strangers and promising to carry out tasks deemed preposterous to others, how was it going to be kept a secret, if something were to happen to her and no one was around to come to her aid for no one knew where she was to begin with?

'_You must tell them, Alice', _came the voice of feeling. '_Tell them your doings. If you do not, then matters will only get worse.'_

'_That isn't the only option, Alice,'_ replied the voice of reason. _'If you do this alone, then no one can order you around. No one can restrain you. You will be free.'_

Free. If what the Heartless said was true, that the Head of the Psyche really is the culprit for Wonderland's suppression, then all would be well. That's what Alice wants: a world that's well. That's all she ever wanted.

'You're right...'

'What? Who's right?' said a befuddled Dormouse.

Alice waved a hand. 'I am just talking to myself,' she said briskly.

The Dormouse gave her another sidelong glance, but quickly after, he returned to drinking his tea.

Afternoon came, and the mist still lingered. Outside there was no wind. The air was thick, lazy. As Alice made her way outside and around the house, she saw the Hatter and the Hare trimming the hedges, and Eros sitting beneath the shadow of the oak tree. They didn't notice her; she was indistinct by the mist from where they were standing.

_Tell them. _The voice of feeling ordered. _They must know._

_Don't tell them. _The voice of reason retorted. _Keep quiet and leave._

It was like having two people quarrelling inside her head, as though her own voice had split into segments with different perspectives. She had to listen to one, so who was she to listen to?

'Alice!' The Hatter waved a hand and smiled. Oh, how she loved that smile. She loved to see him cheery. She couldn't shatter that joy, she just couldn't!

Alice smiled back and walked towards them. 'Good morning, Tarrant. Good morning, Thackery.'

'Yes, yes, morning to you too, Alice.' The Hare barely looked at her; for he was too busy trimming the hedge with a pair of clippers.

'You have come to join us for some gardening on this fine day, have you?' said the Hatter.

She shook her head. 'I'm afraid not,' she answered. 'I was actually -,' she paused. _Now would be the best time. _It would be, but...

'Yes?' The Hatter looked at her with those large, green eyes of his. They made him look so innocent.

'I was, um, I was actually going to go to Chesbury, to buy vegetables. We're out of vegetables.'

'Alice, we grow our own -,'

'But it is not as quick as going to town and buying some.' Her voice was shaky. 'No, no it isn't.'

The green eyes grew larger. 'Um, no, I suppose not,' he said, rather bewildered. 'But I can go. You don't want to travel in the mist, do you?'

'The mist doesn't bother me,' said Alice. 'Actually, it's quite soothing. Quite homey. It makes me think of the times I spent out in the garden back in England.'

Now the eyes narrowed. 'I thought you didn't want to speak of home because it upset you too much?'

She shrugged. 'Some things you must get over.' It hurt her to say that. Now she was feeling guilty for being so insensitive. 'I am taking Eros. I'm sure he'd appreciate the walk.' As she walked over to the stallion, she could feel the Hatter's eyes burrowing into her back. It smacked the smile clean off her face.

'Ah, my lady,' said the horse, and he bowed his head. 'And where is it we are to travel to today? Please do not say Duckworth's farm.'

'Calm down, I'm not taking you back to Duckworth.'

Eros sighed with relief. 'I am genuinely grateful. Then where is it we are going?'

Alice took a quick look over at the Hatter. He went back to trimming, so she edged closer to Eros' ear. 'I think you know where I mean to go.'

'Hmm.' The horse nodded his head. 'I think I know too. Very well, Alice. Jump on and let us take our leave.'

Fastening the saddle and arranging the baggage she'd need for the ride, Alice mounted the stallion, and led him towards the front of the house. That was until she heard the Hare's voice ring from behind: 'Don't ruin the tulips!'

She had more important things to worry about than trampling over flowers. It was time to make a move. Wherever the Palace was, and whatever dwelt within its walls, that would soon be figured out...


	7. Hatred So Askance Known

**a/n: **Well... it's been a while, to put it lightly. I've had so much college work to complete and have been preparing myself for university this September. I apologise deeply for _SUCH _a late chapter update.

Anyhow, I've got the drive going again and I'm determined to see this story through to the end, and I hope you'll be there with me till when it reaches its conclusion. I hope you enjoy this chapter; there's more to come. I promise!

**CHAPTER SIX**

**Hatred So Askance Known**

The mist was thick, and it wasn't disappearing anytime soon. Chesbury was already well behind her, enveloped in a sheet of ghostlike haze. At least the foliage was still green and an occasional carriage passed her by, otherwise she would've feared she fell back into the decaying wasteland that choked the realms three years before. She and Eros spoke little, commenting mainly on the growing depth of the mist. It was near impossible to see ten feet from all sides. Even the sounds that made her distinguish some form of life beyond it had begun to diminish.

_The Palace. _She kept repeating in her head. _Must get to the Palace. _She frequently took out the map the Duchess gave to her from her bag to remind herself in which direction she should go. It was south, along the coastline, circled in black ink. She observed the map wholly then instead of focusing on one area. The Two Realms was just one massive island surrounded by endless water, and beyond, she guessed, the limits of her mind. _No wonder the Revivers wanted out. _Being cramped on a chunk of land barely any larger than Britain would be very uncomfortable, especially seeing as three of its regions were ruled by a separate monarchy. _Such a curious land I've invented. _She put the map back in her bag.

There was fog, and even more fog, and – was it clearing? Oh, no, it was just Alice's hopeless wishes and a trick of the eye, fog still endured! She spoke little to her stallion as they continued southward through the vapours. There was no urge to spark up small talk and both of them were quite drained. All this travelling was bothersome, more so for the horse than for the human girl he was burdened with. Alice couldn't even make out the scenery because it was lost behind a sheet of ashen clouds, so there was no way to pass time.

It was a shame she didn't bring a pocket watch with her; the Rabbit was constantly in possession of one and she could finally see the handiness of it. She packed light for a short distance. It didn't feel short at all.

Eventually, after a boring journey that needs little detail, change presented itself.

The distant sound of clashing waves reached her ears. The fresh smell of the salty air filled her nostrils. It was at that moment she realized she had finally made it to the southern shores of Wonderland, and yet the mist obstructed her vision of the beautiful waters before her. 'You said the mist would soon pass, Eros.' She sighed irritably.

The horse snorted. 'It was a mere guess,' he said, taking no notice of her rising exasperation. 'I did not promise it would fade, neither did I believe it to.'

'But now we cannot find the Palace!' Her teeth began to grind. _Why won't this infuriating fog fade? _She was about let out another groan before something before her caught her eye. 'What is that, Eros?'

'What is what?'

A peculiar silhouette of some lofty structure loomed before them both. It was barely visible, but just conspicuous enough to grab one's attention. 'Look.' She hopped off the saddle, landing on crisp grass, and warily made her way towards it. Ever so slowly its form became clearer and ever more unusual, until it towered above Alice like a giant's arm. 'Curious,' she said to herself. The structure was made of weather-beaten stone, and its straight and soaring shape led her to the conclusion that it was a kind of obelisk. An obelisk for what, however, she couldn't seem to find the answer to.

'I see nothing curious about this.' Eros trotted to her side, eyes focused up toward the pointed tip.

'How can you not?' said Alice. She placed a hand on its rough stone, tracing the cracks and fractures in its surface. 'What do you suppose it is?'

'A monument, I presume,' said Eros.

'A monument for what, though?'

'Do I look omniscient?' the horse snapped. Alice made no answer. Instead, she left the obelisk alone and walked ever so carefully behind it, shuffling towards the edge of a terrible drop. The wind began to regain its howling fury. 'I would be careful if I were you, Alice.'

_Of course I will be careful. What fool would saunter carelessly beside a sea cliff? _She made her way back to the stallion. 'All that's there is a drop to a gruesome fate,' she said. 'No building, no clear skies, just a senseless pillar built upon a dreadfully high cliff.' She folded her arms in a huff.

'I doubt that there's no sense to this,' the horse reassured her. 'That Duchess sent you here for a reason. Maybe this _is _the Palace.'

The look she gave the stallion made him realise how ridiculous he sounded. 'An obelisk?' she said sharply. 'Really? Truly I thought you'd be of more help.'

'Excuse me, but I've been of more help than you'd possibly understand!' Eros said, affronted. 'If it weren't for me you wouldn't have made it here. I've brought you to far places, gone without much rest and trodden oversuch harsh help were you expecting me to give you? Did you expect me to sprout wings and fly you around, or to believe I was some sort of encyclopaedia? Alice, I'm a horse! I'm not a miracle maker, for crying out loud!'

She felt guilty, then; if it weren't for the horse she wouldn't be here, she knew, and feeling bad about snapping at him she apologised. Eros accepted her sorry, but shrugged as though it meant nothing.

The wind wailed at her, and she could smell the salt on its wings. It reminded her of those times at the beach, and she had visited it though very few times, it warmed her soul to remember. _I wonder if they're any beaches around here. I would very much love to take a break. _But this wasn't the time for a break, so she snapped out of her reverie and re-examined the monolith before her. 'I don't know what you're hoping to find, Alice, but maybe we could follow the cliff to see if there's anything else -,'

'Wait!' She didn't mean it to come out so brusquely, but she was certain there was more to this obelisk, so much more. After all, what was its function? To look pretty? For who? This part of Wonderland was very sparse. Who would wander so far south with nothing – 'Hold on!'

'What?'

Something took her notice. Something... _interesting. _'Look at this.' With a finger, she pointed at a contoured bulge in the stone. It was hard to make out what shape it was, but its outline was bolder than any other part of the obelisk. 'What do you suppose that is?'

'A protuberance,' said the horse indifferently. 'Obviously a little insignificant shape.'

'Then what if I do this?' She pressed her finger into it, and the bugle was pushed back into the stone, leaving a depression in its place and a thunderous groan.

The stallion's eyes widened. 'What did you do?'

'Something,' she answered with a smile, and she waited for results.

She waited...

And waited...

And waited...

Nothing happened.

The smile on the horse's face was so smug pride would be ashamed of itself. It was when he opened his mouth did it spout its conceit. 'Oh, well that is a shame, isn't it, Alice? Now, why don't we do what I suggested a while -,'

'_Who goes there?' _

It came so at random even Eros' smile was smacked right off his haughty face, and Alice was left baffled. 'Who is there?' she called out to the mist.

'_No, no. No, no. It's "who GOES there?'_

'My name is Alice,' she answered, swinging her head from side to side, searching for the high-pitched voice somewhere nearby.

'_What do Alice and its friend want, hmm?'_

'Well, firstly for whoever I am speaking to to show his or herself, please.'

It didn't take long for the speaker to make an appearance. There, perched on top of the obelisk, was a blue jay, looking down at them with great interest. 'I have made myself known,' it said, its feathers vivid even in the haze. 'Now, why are you here?'

'I am looking for the Palace,' she said. 'Do you know where it is?'

The blue jay chirped. 'Oh, so you want to find the Palace, do you?' Its voice was shrill and, to an extent, mocking. 'Alice and friend, you have already found it.'

Eros snorted. 'Well, to be truthful I was expecting something quite grander than a perch for a pest.'

It was so quick that when Alice jolted back she fell on her bottom. 'Pest, eh?' The blue jay had settled itself on the top of Eros' head with such speed, and began pecking at the stallion. Safe to say Eros didn't take that very well. 'Oh, a pest that pecks!' piped the blue jay heatedly as the horse tried to shake it off. 'Oh, what are you to do? What are you to -,'

'_Enough!' _That time, Alice meant for it to be brusque. 'Off his head now!'

The bird didn't hesitant once. When it returned to the tip of the monolith, it sighed. 'Please excuse my inappropriate behaviour,' it said, now calm. 'I have quite the temper, if one has not noticed. Anyway, back to the previous topic, yes, you have found the Palace but _this_ is not it.' It tapped its foot on the stone. 'You have merely found the door, and of course, rang the doorbell. That is why I am here. My name is Lyric, doorkeeper of the Palace and part-time artiste at the Court of Guardians. As I take it, you wish to gain access to the Palace, am I correct?'

_No, I thought I'd be fun to gallivant around a cliff all day for no reason whatsoever. _'Yes, you are.'

'And why exactly if you don't mind my asking?'

'I need to speak with Alistair Ludwidge Secundo, Head of the Psyche. It's very important.'

Lyric's crown of feathers rose for a second, and then lowered as though they were breathing. 'So you know of him,' it said, quite awkwardly. 'Well then, I had best go and tell him that he has a couple of visitors. I will be back momentarily.' And in a blink of an eye, the bird had vanished.

Alice and Eros were left waiting for a shorter amount time than they feared. Within ten minutes the bird had returned, perching itself back upon the obelisk. 'Well,' the bird began with a sigh, 'I guess this is your lucky day.'

Eros snorted. 'Oh? And how so?'

'Because you can now meet the Head of the Psyche.'

Joy filled Alice's soul, hearing that. _Good, now we can get away from this miserable cliff top. _'That is wonderful,' said Alice full of delight. 'Now, where do we go?'

'Right this way.' Lyric gave a twitter and then dived down, azure wings outspread, south of the obelisk. The bird hovered above the sheer drop below. 'This mist should fade at any moment,' assured the bird. 'Then we can proceed to the Palace.'

Alice was about to question about the fog's supposed evanescence once the bird had finished, claiming how one could possibly predict the changing of the weather, until the unthinkable happened. For a second or two she thought her eyes playing tricks on her, although when she took a moment of her time to carefully notice, the mist _did _begin to fade. It began to thin as though it were done by sorcery. And after all the complaining, she was – despite her befuddlement – glad it paid off.

The sky regained colour, albeit a very dim shade of blue. Below, the ocean could be seen ramming into the feet of the cliff walls, its waters as faint as the heavens above. But that was not the only thing Alice noticed once the mist was completely vanished. She had imagined extraordinary creations and defied the laws of what could exist physically, disregarding anything considered "unfeasible" back in her old world. Nevertheless, when she gazed out towards the sea, her eyes fell upon something that made the air catch in her very throat.

Sited between the horizon, floated (yes, _floated_) a great mass of earth. It was coated at the top with grass a pale green, and beneath rocks of ashen greys and faded browns. Waterfalls plunged down to the ocean far below like cerulean pillars, holding up the weight of the hovering island above. Though that was not the defining feature on this heap of rock, no, for roosting atop of the earth was a grand castle with a dozen soaring spires. Its walls were pallid though its battlements were red, and upon the tallest tower on a finial of gold danced a flag, though what it bore Alice could not see from such a distance.

Both Eros' and Alice's jaws dropped. _Just when I thought I'd seen it all. _

'There it is,' came Lyric's shrill voice. 'Now, wait for a second and we will be able to cross.'

A couple of minutes later, something was flying towards them from the castle. Once Alice was able to make out what it was she was surprised to find it was the Gryphon. With such grace he descended towards the obelisk and landed before Alice and Eros, and with that he made a bow. 'Alice,' he said with a smile. 'It has been a while.'

'Yes, since Thackery's party, if I remember correctly.'

'That was indeed a while ago.' His sharp eyes fell upon Eros. They formed into a glare. 'I cannot carry a horse to the Palace, I hope you realise. I am afraid you must stay put.'

Eros did not like that one bit. 'Preposterous!' he cried, stamping his hooves in annoyance. 'I travelled here from a great distance. No matter if you or a half a dozen gryphons refuse to carry me I wish to enter the Palace, and enter I shall!'

The Gryphon harrumphed. 'Be my guest,' he said nonchalantly. 'There is a sheer drop right behind me and a nice distance of ocean between here and the castle. Oh, and not to mention there is no way of reaching it without flying, but you can try to swim up the waterfalls if you can perform such an unfeasible task. I'd look forward to it very much.'

Alice knew Eros' patience was trying and he would've caused some commotion. Thankfully, she put a stop to that before he could by attempting to convince him in staying. 'I won't be too long, Eros, I promise,' she said in as light a tone as she could. 'Please stay here for just a few minutes?' Grudgingly, he stayed put, but not without bellowing out some profanities before he finally decided to calm down.

There, Alice hopped onto the Gryphon's back, and with a great beat of his wings he ascended and flew off towards the soaring castle in the distance. The structure truly was remarkable, and it was even more so when they were closer. She could distinctly make out the design on the flag, and saw that it bore a silver rook encased in a blood-red heart. She'd never seen this kind of flag before.

The gryphon began his descent, though he did not land before the front gate. Instead, he came to rest on one of the tower's terraces. A man swathed in jet-black armour from head to toe came to meet them. He held aloft a banner of the very same flag, and made a bow once Alice dismounted the beast. 'Good afternoon, madam,' he said, and he lifted up the visor of his helmet. 'I am the captain of the guards, here. My name is Egbert, or Sir Ebony, as I am more commonly known as. I am happy to escort you into the castle, my dear.'

Alice curtsied. 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir.'

'Please, follow me.' All but the Gryphon made their way inside.

As Alice walked down the spiral steps of the tower, she imagined herself in medieval times, with the intricacy of the knight's armour, the grandeur of the castle's spires, and the torch brackets illuminating the interior in place of gaslights. She was honestly half expecting a dragon to come swooping in down from the sky! It was like being in the days of chivalry. The corridors themselves were a pleasantry to observe too once they both descended the stairs. Portraits of majestic (and unidentified) figures adorned the walls, all with an air of pride about them. Red drapes hung from the tops of the walls, and they were hooked back to reveal impressive busts of said figures lined up at the sides. Alice had no clue of who they were, but she was very much eager to find out.

At last, they came to a massive hall filled with people, and with a ceiling so high a tree could have scarcely reached it. Everything was white or silver or gold when it came to the colour scheme of the architecture, which was magnificent enough to pass for something during the Renaissance, like a Venetian cathedral or a palace of kings. The music that played throughout was a lovely sensation to the ears, with symphonies of violas and cellos and flutes. Accompanied with the sonata were the busy voices of the people present, and all appeared as though they were of noble lineage and woven from the minds of a Georgian artist. The fashion was extravagant, to put it lightly. There were people wearing wigs of different colours and shapes, and Alice could make out a woman wearing one in the form of a swan. The clothes themselves were a rainbow of colours; the room was just one massive kaleidoscope. The closest Alice could put it is that the fashion was relatively Georgian, though doubled in excessiveness. The people themselves seemed like something from a melodrama, with their theatrical interactions and their hearty guffaws. Despite Alice having stumbled upon some peculiar sights, this, oddly enough, felt the most peculiar of all.

Once Alice entered the hall with her escort, the music came to an abrupt end. The guests (Alice assumed they were guests), with the top halves of their faces hidden behind elaborate masques, looked at Alice, and none of them were smiling. This certainly made Alice uncomfortable, what with her tattered and shoddy garb, and her golden hair all a tangle. A confrontation with the Jabberwock would've been less daunting! Sir Ebony, with his banner held high, gestured to the guests for a passage to be made through the crowd. The guests reluctantly let them through, and whilst Alice and the knight meandered through the throng a chorus of whispers flew through the hall, complemented with some muffled laughs. Yes, to Alice, the Jabberwock felt more welcoming.

They came then to the foot of a dais, and Sir Ebony bowed to the person upon it and moved aside to let Alice get a better look. An elegant throne was rested upon the dais, and resting upon the throne was a man, his legs dangling over the armrest. He wore a plum coat adorned with gold buttons, supplemented with breeches of crimson and a curled wig of silver. His face was hidden behind a masque, though when he saw Alice curtsy before him he lowered it, and let his profile be seen. He was rather handsome, Alice noted; he looked nonchalant and somewhat cocky in the way he smiled at her, though when he did so her cheeks flushed red. He handed the masque to a servant and removed the wig from his head, showing off locks of russet tied back into a ponytail. He made a small laugh.

'Ah, here she is, finally!' he said loudly so all could here. 'The famous Alice Liddell! You could have picked attire a little more… sophisticated.'

'Well, in my defence, I was unaware that you were having a party,' replied Alice. 'By any chance, are you Alistair Ludwidge Secundo?'

'Just call me Alistair, sweetheart.' He gave her another smile. 'You picked a strange time to come knocking on my door. If I had known you would be paying me a visit I would've written a serenade for you. However, I am sure this would suffice?' He gestured to one of his servants, and promptly they walked down to Alice and offered to her a white rose. Quite taken aback at the gift, she flustered.

'I don't know what to say,' she said as she took it. 'It's very beautiful.'

'As are you.' Alistair looked up at the gawking spectators and clapped his hands. 'You are all a curious lot, aren't you? The party stops when I say it does, so continue.' And just like that the hall was alive again and all eyes turned away from Alice. She was grateful for that. 'Now, sweetheart,' he said, shifting his position on the throne, 'I would like for you to meet a special friend of mine.' He stood up. 'If you would be so kind as to follow me.'

He guided her along the side of the crowded hall, allowing Alice a chance to see out the large windows. It was coming close to sundown, with a violet sky bold behind the white spires of the castle. It was dreamlike to behold, and Alice smiled. 'This is a wonderful place, I must say.'

'You _must _say?' Alistair turned back to give her a smile. 'Yes, I suppose it is impressive. This is the Palace, as you know, and it rivals even the monarch's abodes. We're not of royalty here, though we are highborn. We came from all corners of the Two Realms, and now we all join here. Well, not all of us. Only few live here.'

'And you have lived here long?' asked Alice, still following.

'Longer than you could imagine.' He stopped, spun around to face Alice, and said: 'Here is the friend I mentioned.' He indicated to a masqueraded aristocrat on his left. They were instantly aware of his presence and so revealed themself. 'This is Archibald Emrys, the most intelligent man you are sure to meet.'

The man known as Archibald made a bow to Alice. He was a skinny, elderly chap, balding on the top and growing on the jawline with an impressive beard that reached to his waist. He raised a glass of red wine to them both. 'A blossoming beauty, there, my friend,' he asserted to Alistair. 'With a scrub down and a comb through the hair she would be an extraordinary creature.' He took a sip from his wineglass. 'I have heard many stories about you, young miss. A year ago you ended strife between Wonderland and Looking-glass Land. Bravo! I also heard you have been living with the most peculiar companions. Am I correct?'

Alice nodded. 'O, yes, that is correct, sir.'

'I thought so. Our beloved Queen of Hearts speaks of you often. I sometimes attend their court meetings, so I am quite up to date with the gossip.'

_Wonderful, _thought Alice. She could only imagine what delightful things Seraphina had to say about her. It was no doubt the queen was still bothered after the incident with the Prism of Hearts, so whatever came out her mouth must've been of "appreciation". Alice grimaced at the prospect. 'It is fascinating to know that she acknowledges me.'

'O, she acknowledges you!' Archibald chortled. 'The episode at Checkmate Plateau has still left a bitter taste in her mouth. However, despite a few discourteous remarks, she admires your resolve.'

_It's something. _'And I admire her passion. She is a fiery character, though a just one.'

Alistair let out a single laugh, as though her words were amusing to the ear. 'O, that is so,' he said, grinning. 'A very just ruler, indeed. An effective one, at that. Very much like her father. Then again, her family has been known to be quite… ardent in some areas.' He passed a wink at Archibald, but he did not look impressed.

The old man cleared his throat. 'Anyway, young miss, what brings you to the Palace?'

Alice blinked. She'd almost forgotten about her task. 'O, well, I – I came here to say -,'

Something blue darted past the corner of her eye, and hovering there beside Alistair's head was the blue jay. It chirped something in his ear. Alice could not make out what it said. Alistair made a small nod, and Lyric made off in a shot of blue lightning. 'Forgive me, friends,' he said to Alice and Archibald, 'I need to speak with Sir Ebony. I will be back shortly.' And then he left.

Alice felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and when she went to look Archibald took his hand away and smiled through his beard. 'I did not hear what you said, young miss.'

_I don't think I said anything. _'O, yes. Um, where was I? Well, I came here to say that – that the Guardians -,'

'Why are you stammering?'

'I – I…' _Goodness me. _She twiddled her fingers. She wasn't too sure how to phrase what Lysandra had said to her, and neither was she sure how Archibald would respond to the statement. Nerves were kicking in far worse than having stood out among those masqueraded nobles. Though to her relief, before she could conjure up a tactful reply, and before her stammering worsened, Alistair had promptly returned.

'I apologise,' he said as he made a stop before the duo. 'Pressing matters, I am afraid.' He turned to Archibald. 'Lyric has just informed me that there is a woman by the obelisk... again. Of course, it's not the same person.'

_Oh, goodness, I hope it's not –_

'Well, it'd be best to send the Griffin over - or perhaps the blue jay - to ask why she's here,' Archibald suggested.

'I've already done so. Alice, my dear, by any chance might you know who this woman is?'

_I might. _'I've no idea what she looks like,' Alice answered. 'Have you asked for her name? I can assure you, it was only Eros and I that travelled here. There was no one else.'

The Head of the Psyche stroked his chin. 'I see,' he said. 'Well then, Lyric'll be back with answers soon enough. Anyway,' he clapped his hands, 'you were telling us something, weren't you, or has it already been said?'

She was on the spot again. Knowing now a woman was outside – and a woman she most likely knew, no less – doubled her unease. She wasn't too sure how to approach this. Would these two be understandable? Would they discuss the issue civilly or would they fluster with outrage? There was only one why to find out.

Alice took a deep breath. 'I am a sort of messenger,' she began. Her palms were sweating. She dried them on her dress absentmindedly. 'You see -,'

'See what?' Archibald exclaimed.

Alice ignored him. 'I have been sent by a Reviver.'

There was pause. Archibald bowed his head and swirled the wine around in his glass. Alistair, after a moment's silence, twitched a smile and conjured a forced laugh.

'Well,' he said, pushing his tongue to his cheek. 'That is – that is... _interesting. _I certainly wasn't expecting that. However, Alice, what does this... _Reviver_ want?'

_Brace yourselves for more awkwardness, Alice. _'They wanted me to talk of your...' she started thinking of an acceptable synonym to "tyranny", if there even was one. 'To talk of your authority.' That seemed suitable enough, she supposed.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. 'Did they ask you to put that politely? It is rather well-known that Guardians and Revivers are not the best of friends. The last Revivers were the Heartless and they were taken care of almost a century ago. Whoever this "Reviver" is, I am sure we can come to some accord. We don't want history to repeat itself now, do we?'

Archibald looked up at Alistair. 'Revivers are all gone. You do realise that?'

'Of course,' the Head replied. 'This is no more than some commoner complaining about taxes or something equally "unjust". Then again, ruling under Seraphina, well, that can't be all fun and games. Nevertheless, Alice, we will have this matter settled soon enough. You can bring them here if you wish and we will hopefully come to an agreement and all this twaddle can be put to rest. Is that fair enough, sweetheart?'

Being called "sweetheart" left a sickly taste in Alice's mouth, though on the other hand, she thought the arrangement reasonable. 'Thank you, kind sirs,' she curtsied. 'It'd probably be best if I took my leave, now. My friends would be wondering why I'm taking so long.'

A blur of blue shot past her as before, and Lyric was hovering an inch beside the Head's ear. In reply to something the bird whispered, Alistair laughed. 'Ah! Thank you, Lyric. The woman outside is just one of the queen's envoys,' he said to Alice and Archibald. 'She's probably here to ask on behalf of the queen why her majesty wasn't invited. Well, I can think of many reasons! But yes, Alice, of course, you may leave. Bring your friend along next time. You're welcome here whenever, my dear. Sir Ebony will escort you out.'

It was a relief for Alice to leave the blustering hall behind and back out into the open air. The Griffin was already waiting for her, all set to fly back to the obelisk. She thanked Sir Ebony for accompanying her back up the fairytale spires. He gave her a parting smile and disappeared back down the tower, and Alice disappeared into the horizon.

Back at the obelisk, the envoy Alistair spoke of was standing patiently in the cold. She wore a heart badge on her uniform to indicate her importance and her role. She caught sight of Alice as she dismounted the hybrid, giving her a small nod in recognition. Eros saw her approach and was gladdened by it.

'Thank goodness you have returned!' he said as he trotted towards her. 'Are we to return home? How was the meeting?'

'I will tell you on the journey home,' Alice said. 'After some sleep, I need to return to the Pool of Tears and talk to the Duchess. I think everything will be sorted soon enough.'


End file.
